A Father's Day to Remember
by Aussie Nightwriter
Summary: Part 10 Uploaded. This is the promised sequel to Lake of Lost Souls. Bruce and Dick have a great deal to overcome if they are to truly enjoy 'Father's Day'.
1. Chapter 1

**A Father's Day to Remember  
A Sequel to "Lake of Lost Souls"**

by AUSSIE NIGHTWRITER

**_DISCLAIMER_: I do not own any of the characters. Nightwing and all of his friends belongs to DC comics. I'd be a happy woman if Dick belonged to me...but no such luck. I have not made any profit out of writing this, so please don't sue me. It would not be worth your while. **

**_Author Comment_: I know I have been away for a long time and I'm afraid I'm a bit rusty. Please note, this story has not been betaed. **

This is the promised sequel to the story "Lake of Lost Souls." Sorry it has taken so long.

**_Special Thanks_: Thank you to all those people who have left such wonderful feedback on my previous stories. **

* * *

**A Father's Day to Remember**

**Sequel to "Lake of Lost Souls"**

**Part One **

**Father's Day was not an occasion Bruce could recall with any fondness. He knew that for the first twelve years of his life it had been a happy time, but too many years had washed away those memories. Too many years spent visiting a monolith of rock standing over a grave inscribed with the words 'Thomas Wayne - Loving father - Now in the arms of God.' Since the tender age of twelve, Father's Day had been one for grieving and for reflecting on what might have been. That had not changed for Bruce when he had taken in eight year old orphan, Dick Grayson. Rather, Father's Day had become a day divided between two graves.**

**Bruce peered out the window at the white world of mystery and wonder beyond. On the tiny island of Havico, there was a solitary beauty and a strange calmness that Bruce felt could be shattered at any moment. He felt a long way from anywhere... a long way from anything familiar or comfortable and yet, despite some underlying anxiety, he was happier than he had been for a long time. For the first time in years, Bruce would not be spending Father's Day mourning his dad. Rather, he was going to spend the weekend away skiing with his son.**

**A smile of pride spread across Wayne's face… his son. He glanced over his shoulder at the young man sitting in front of the fire finishing his breakfast. One week earlier, Bruce had adopted the twenty-two year old who was, and always would be, not only Batman's partner, but Bruce's best friend. Almost losing Dick had prompted Bruce to examine his life. It had only been three months since Dick had been on life support after using his own body to shield his former guardian from a hail of bullets. Grayson had actually died in hospital, but by some miracle, he and Bruce had been given a second chance. Dick had come back from the brink and in that instant…that moment when his heart had started beating again, Bruce Wayne's outlook on life had changed completely.**

**Grayson flicked his eyes over to the older man, sensing he was the object of inspection. In the blue orbs looking at him so intently he saw something he had seen a lot of when he was young. It was something he had seen disappear in his teenage years, but it was back and Dick kept pinching himself to confirm it wasn't his imagination. "What time do you have to go?"**

**Bruce glanced at his watch. "About now. What are your plans for the morning?"**

**Dick smiled, picked up his cup of coffee and toasted Bruce. "I'm going to sit right here in front of the fire where it's warm. Do we have the entire place to ourselves?"**

"**Apart from the cook and maid. This place belonged to the previous owner of the island. Not sure I like his taste," Bruce commented, indicating the Boar's head mounted over the mantle. "Alfred'll have a fit when he sees it."**

"**It'll be the first thing to go," Dick agreed. "The maid said there's bad weather moving in. Apparently, we're about to be cut off from the outside world."**

"**Could be cut off for up to two weeks. They'll close the roads and airport."**

"**You okay with that?" Dick asked curiously, sweeping his hair off his forehead. Batman rarely took extended holidays.**

"**Nothing I can do about the weather. Besides, as you keep telling me, Tim and Cassie are more than capable and if they aren't, Barbara will know how to handle whatever comes up." **

**Dick nodded, reflecting on the fact that he'd never seen Bruce so laid-back. The big black bat's faith in Robin, Batgirl and Oracle was at an all time high and his resolve to obtain balance in his life was succeeding for the first time. **

**Wayne checked his watch, again. "I better get going. I don't want to be late. Why don't you come too? It'll save time. I won't be long. Just have to sign on the dotted line. All of the documents have been prepared by both sets of lawyers. As soon as I'm done, we'll grab some skis."**

"**Okay. You never did tell me why Wayne Enterprises is buying this ice cube," Dick inquired, draining his coffee. The 'ice cube' Dick was referring to was a small island off the coast of Alaska. The island had been privately owned for over six hundred years and thus was technically a country in its own right. It had been auctioned following the death of the previous owner.**

"**Wayne Enterprises didn't buy it. I did. An island without political jurisdiction has major possibilities," Bruce pointed out, pulling his coat on.**

"**In other words, you're stopping it falling into the hands of anyone wanting to abuse that quirk."**

"**Let's just say I don't like the idea of just anyone gaining ownership of land so close to our borders. A missile base on our doorstep, for example. Besides, it's got something. So… I don't know. The weather makes it so isolated. So far from anywhere."**

**Dick's brow furrowed as he rose to his feet. "Far enough away to forget when you need to?"**

"**Maybe. It's only a couple of hours flight from Gotham so I thought I'd use it as a retreat." The previous owner had spent millions creating a private playground for the rich. "Thought it may be a good place for the two of us to… just to hang out."**

**Dick smirked. "Hang out?"**

"**Look, don't give me a hard time. I'm a bit out of practise when it comes to free time." The mirth masked his bubbling anxiety. His conversion with Alfred two days earlier, rushed back…**

"Do you think that is wise, Sir?"

"Sorry? You think there's something wrong with me asking Dick to join me for the weekend? Don't worry, Alfred, I won't let him overexert himself. Besides, Leslie says some gentle exercise will be good for him and Dick is just about going out of his mind being cooped up in the house."

Alfred was frowning. "That isn't what I meant, Master Bruce." Alfred licked his lips. He often walked a tight line. On one hand he was an employee, but on the other, he was family. Right now, he felt he needed to comment. "I think you have made a number of dubious decisions of late, son."

Bruce rose slowly from his chair, staring at Alfred like he was from Mars. "I… what do you mean?" He couldn't possibly be talking about adopting Dick… and yet, Bruce knew he was. "I thought you were happy that I adopted Dick."

"Of course, Sir, but your timing for such an important event was abysmal."

"Timing? I don't understand."

Alfred sighed. "You gave it no thought at all."

"No thought!" Bruce yelled. "I promise you, Alfred, I thought long and hard about it. I haven't thought about anything else since…" His voice faded as an image of Dick laying so deathly still in hospital was dredged from his memories. "Three months ago I promised myself that when Dick was fully recovered, I'd make things right. Adopting him was a start. Hell, I should have done it years ago."

Alfred shook his head. "Son, I'm not questioning your sincerity, nor the action, but I just think you should have waited a few weeks."

"Why?" Bruce was at a loss.

It was only then Alfred realized Bruce had completely forgotten the significance of the coming weekend. "My apologies, Sir. I assumed that you had intentionally timed Master Dick's adoption one week from Father's Day."

It took some moments for Bruce to process the words. His eyes grew wide and before he knew it, he was falling back down into his chair. "Father's Day! I… Oh, no."

Alfred turned to the drinks table, poured Bruce a scotch and handed it to him, saying, "I think a drink may be in order."

Father's Day hadn't entered Bruce's mind. The fact that he'd forgotten and had planned to be away was bad enough, but adopting Dick only a week before a day Dick would be focusing on his memories of his father was indefensible. Bruce had placed his boy in a dreadful position. Dick was still coming to terms with his decision to accept Bruce's offer to 'formalize things for legal reasons'… and now Father's Day would arrive thrusting his 'real' father in the forefront of his thinking.

"Oh, God," Bruce muttered. "I didn't think." He hadn't thought beyond his own personal need to let Dick know how much he cared. "Dick didn't say anything when I asked him to join me for the weekend."

"No, to his credit, he said nothing."

"Why didn't he say something?"

"I can only assume he believed you had asked him away so you could spend Father's Day together."

Wayne's face twisted with anguish as he whispered, "Alfred, how could I have stuffed this up so badly?"

Alfred smiled gently. "Welcome to fatherhood, son."

"I don't want to replace his father."

"He knows that."

"But what the hell must he be thinking?… that I purposely wanted to take him away so he couldn't pay his respects to his real father!"

"I doubt that."

"I can't undo the adoption… why didn't 'you' say something?" Bruce exploded.

Alfred calmly poured himself a scotch. "Because I only found out you had made the decision to adopt Master Dick after you had already asked him, otherwise I would have advised you to wait a few weeks and let Father's Day pass as it always does."

"I'll put off the signing a week so we can be home."

"I'm not sure that is wise, Sir. While you may not have been aware of the significance of the weekend in question, I am sure Master Dick was."

"So what the hell do I do?"

"Go, but be aware of how difficult this weekend may be for him."….

**Tomorrow was Father's Day. Despite the fact that his relationship with Dick had been rocky for a long time, his love for his son had never wavered. Finally being able to let Dick know how he felt by formally adopting him had been one of the happiest days of Bruce's life. However, he'd acted without thinking things through… something that was very out of character. Bruce berated himself again for his lack of forethought. He should have waited until after Father's Day before setting the adoption in motion.**

"**The island is 100 km across at the widest part," Bruce explained to Dick as the pair stepped out of the warmth of the private lodge. Grayson stopped after taking a couple of steps. The air lashing his face burned his ruddy cheeks. Bruce turned and laughed at the look of surprise the younger man displayed. "You'll get used to it. It's mild today."**

"**Mild?" Dick exclaimed, pulling his brightly coloured parka around himself. "Hey, I forgot my Bat thermal underwear."**

"**We're in the Arctic Circle, remember. Just wait until a blizzard hits. Then, it's cold. This way. And be careful. It's slippery."**

"**I get the feeling you've been here before."**

"**I spent some time here just after…" his voice faded. Dick eyed him and then looked away. The time when Bruce had broken his back had not been a good period in their relationship.**

"**This way," Bruce coaxed, leading along an icy path through the courtyard. The gardens were extensive but covered in snow, the branches hanging low with the weight. In summer, the grounds were bright and colourful Dick guessed. Now, everything was enveloped in ice. There were deck chairs around the courtyard, though they too were enshrouded with frost.**

"**There are no beaches. The entire island is 250 metres above sea level so access from the mainland is only by air." **

"**Pretty mountainous too, by the look of it."**

"**Uh-huh. We're on the highest. Great rock climbing in the summer, I'm told. The island has three small villages - one at the base of each of the larger mountains." **

**Dick surveyed the land as far as he could see. Mowee Retreat, where he and Bruce were staying, was on a wide plateau at the top of Mt Mowee. **

"**We're completely isolated up here. To ski or do anything else we have to take the helicopter or sky rail down to one of the villages. Anyone who wants to leave the island has to take a plane from Pine Village… and that isn't easy at this time of year. The weather dictates everything." Bruce stopped walking once he arrived at the edge of the plateau. "This is why I bought the island," he whispered.**

**Dick followed Wayne's gaze and was stunned by the breathtaking view. It truly was beautiful. They were perched in the sky and directly in front of them and below, everything was white as far as the eye could see. In the distance Grayson could the see the dark ocean. **

"**Worth every cent?" Bruce asked Dick, passionately.**

**Grayson stared out over the world, or at least, that was what it felt like. The icy air and strong winds buffeted him as he stood at the end of the plateau. It was freezing, but deep down inside, he felt overwhelming warmth. Everything in his life was finally going right. Barbara loved him. He and Bruce had worked out their problems and were as close as they had ever been and his Nightwing activities were finally making a difference in Bludhaven, or had been before he'd shot three months earlier. Tomorrow… well, tomorrow wouldn't be easy, but it was something he needed to face.**

**Bruce slipped his arm across his son's shoulders. He had wanted to share this with Dick. So far there hadn't been any awkwardness. As a matter of fact, Bruce was surprised by how easy it was being around Dick. It wasn't that long ago that such time in each other's company had been uncomfortable, neither knowing what to say… both grieving what they had lost. Now, all of that was long forgotten.**

"**You're right. It is beautiful. So, will you be closing the island to others or keeping it the way it is?"**

"**I'll leave everything as it is. Mowee Retreat will be for our private use. The resort and shop owners in the villages below lease everything so I don't see any reason to make any other changes. The resident population is only about one hundred. During the tourist season it goes as high as five hundred. Did I mention, best skiing anywhere in the world?" Wayne added, bouncing his eyebrows.**

"**We'll test that claim this afternoon when I show you how it's done, old man," Dick chuckled. **

"**This morning, if I can get the signing done quickly... And we'll see who shows who."**

**The trip down the mountain on the sky rail was cosy in the air-conditioned cabin. Bruce and Dick travelled the thirty minutes in comfortable silence. They were greeted by a small group of curious locals wanting to get a look at the new island owner. Bruce immediately swung into form, handling the 'audience' with ease. He also successfully kept all attention from Dick… something the younger man was grateful of.**

"**Sorry about that. I didn't realize my arrival was known," Bruce apologised as he and Dick set off down the street, leaving the welcoming committee behind them. Nathan Village consisted of two main streets crisscrossed by small lanes that contained tourist lodges, chalets and local residences. The snow fields were at the south end of the village which was were 95 of the people were collected. **

**Bruce and Dick headed away from the tourist strip. "Do you know where we're going?" Dick asked, shivering.**

"**Yeah, the Dear Head Tavern. Are you cold?"**

"**I guess it's taking me a little while to acclimatise," Dick murmured. This was the first time he'd been out of the house since leaving hospital. Alfred had been the nurse from hell and Barbara, who had visited daily, hadn't been much better. However, their collective efforts hadn't been in vain. Dick's recovery had been far more swift than any of them could have hoped for. Early physio had helped, but so far, anything more than a stroll around the Manor, was out of the question.**

**Bruce stopped walking, dug into his pocket and handed Dick a wad of bills. "Go down to the shops and buy yourself a decent coat and then meet me at the Tavern. It's the brown place at the end of the street," Bruce stated, pointing.**

**The handful of notes hung between them for an uncomfortable number of seconds. **

"**I have my own money, Bruce."**

"**My money is your money," Bruce insisted, thrusting the bundle at Dick.**

"**No, it isn't," Grayson muttered, pushing Wayne's hand away.**

**They stared at each other for some time. **

"**Bruce, I work. I don't need your money."**

"**It isn't charity," Bruce growled in frustration.**

"**I didn't say it was," Dick snapped, seeing red. "I many not earn a lot, but it's enough."**

"**That's immaterial now," Wayne stated, gently. "I can't run Wayne Enterprises on my own anymore and its important you know and understand how everything works in case anything happens to me. As soon as you're up to it, you can come in and between us, Lucas and I'll show you the ropes."**

**Dick's face twisted with shock and abrupt rage. "Oh, so you've got my life all planned out for me, have you?"**

"**Huh? I just thought that it was a given that you'd…"**

"**A given! I'm a cop, Bruce. I enjoy being a cop. I know you don't approve but…"**

"**I never said I didn't approve. Don't put words in my mouth."**

"**When have you ever needed 'words' to let me know you don't approve of my decisions!" Dick growled, spinning on his heals and heading back the way he'd come.**

"**Dick, wait. Dick!" **

**Bruce watched his son disappear and shook his head in confusion. What the hell had just happened? **

**Continued in part 2 **

If you leave feedback, please leave your email address so I can take the opportunity to thank you.

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**I would really love to know what you thought.**

**© January 2006 Aussie Nightwriter. : This relates only to the creative property in this story. The distinctive way the story unfolds, the specific dialogue and unique situations are mine. I acknowledge that some of the characters and settings belong to DC comics. (g) No infrigement of copyright was intended and no profit has been made from this story... so, please don't sue me. It wouldn't be worth your while.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A Father's Day to Remember  
A Sequel to "Lake of Lost Souls"**

by AUSSIE NIGHTWRITER

**_DISCLAIMER_: I do not own any of the characters. Nightwing and all of his friends belongs to DC comics. I'd be a happy woman if Dick belonged to me...but no such luck. I have not made any profit out of writing this, so please don't sue me. It would not be worth your while. **

**_Author Comment_: I know I have been away for a long time and I'm afraid I'm a bit rusty. Please note, this story has not been betaed. **

This is the promised sequel to the story "Lake of Lost Souls." Sorry it has taken so long.

**_Special Thanks_: Thank you to all those people who have left such wonderful feedback on my previous stories.** _Melissa - you didn't leave your email so I couldn't send thanks. _

* * *

**A Father's Day to Remember**

Sequel to "Lake of Lost Souls"

**Part Two **

**The old-fashioned bell above the little ski shop tinkled as Dick entered. He'd chosen this shop specifically because it was small and looked deserted. Grayson wasn't in the mood for conversation or crowds. He knew he'd over-reacted to Bruce's innocent offer of money. He would apologise for that later. However, Bruce's assumption that he would just throw away all he'd worked for to wear a stuffy penguin suit and copy Bruce's façade of a brainless socialite, was infuriating. **

**The youth behind the counter looked up and smiled. "Hi. Can I… Hey, you're the one who was with Bruce Wayne… the guy who's just bought the island!"**

"**Yeah," Dick acknowledged, quietly. **

"**So you his son or his lover?"**

**Dick's eyes grew wide. "What?"**

**The youth smiled broadly. "Hey, I've got an open mind." Dick's reaction had answered his question, though. "Sorry, just trying to settle a bet I had with a friend… and I lost," he laughed. "So, your old man must be loaded? How can I help?"**

"**He's not my… I mean… I need a warmer coat," Dick fumbled. **

"**Sure, this way. We don't carry a lot of the more expensive brands, but a coat's a coat, I always say. Rumour is, he's going to leave everything on the island as it is. That true?"**

"**Bruce doesn't see any reason to change anything," Dick murmured.**

"**Bruce? You call your father by his first name? Cool. If I called my dad, Tom, he'd horse whip me. My dad's incredibly old-fashioned. Wants me to go to college and better myself. Me, I just want to be ski instructor, you know what I mean?"**

"**Yeah," Dick mumbled. "I know what you mean."**

**VVVVVVVVVV**

**Bruce stared down at the bills in his hand. Dick was officially his heir, now. Damn it, he'd always been his heir, but now that stubborn young man was legally his son, surely he could give him a few dollars? **

**Bruce cursed as he reviewed Dick's parting statements. Never at any point had he 'directly admitted' he disapproved of the boy's decision to become a cop -- or, maybe he had. Of course, it was all immaterial. Dick read him like a book. Bruce had still intended going to Dick's graduation though. He was proud of what the young man had achieved. Not that he'd ever told him, but Dick knew. Didn't he? **

**Unfortunately, on the evening of the graduation ceremony, Poison Ivy had escaped and catching her had been more… Bruce froze as he processed the end of the thought -- because catching her had been more important? The skin around the billionaire's eyes creased and his brow furrowed. At every turn, the tangled mess he had made of his relationship with his boy revealed itself. **

"**Mr. Wayne?" The muffled voice jolted him back to the present. A middle aged man wearing a scarf wrapped tightly around his face, stood in front of him bouncing from one foot to the other. **

"**Yes?" Wayne's breath materialized in front of him in a white cloud.**

"**I'm Peter MacIntosh. We spoke on the phone."**

**Bruce shoved the money into his pocket and then shook the lawyer's hand. **

"**Let's get out of this cold," MacIntosh encouraged, setting off toward the Deer Head Tavern. "So, have you settled in at Mowee Resort?"**

**Bruce's gaze lingered in the direction Dick had taken and then he turned and joined MacIntosh. The sooner he got the signing out of the way, the sooner he could go after Dick and fix things. "Yes. We arrived by helicopter last night."**

"**Mr and Mrs Rogers help you to settle in?"**

"**Yes. Thank you."**

"**Will you be keeping the Rogers on?"**

"**Yes. I'll need someone to maintain the place while I'm in Gotham." Bruce's mind drifted. All he'd wanted was to make things right between himself and his boy. Adopting Dick, inviting him for the weekend so they could spend some time together -- hell, buying this island -- was all part of Bruce's plan to correct the mistakes he'd made over the years.**

"**They will be relieved. They've lived on the island all their lives. Started working up on Mowee about…" MacIntosh's voice faded in Bruce's ears, replaced by recollections of the moment he had realized he needed to make changes…**

**vvv**

_**Gotham General Hospital -- 12 weeks earlier**_

Bruce held his boy with great care. Unconsciously, he counted each reassuring breath Dick took, feeling the rise and fall of the young man's chest against his own.

Life.

Despite the three gaping holes in his body and the fact that Leslie had officially pronounced him dead only an hour earlier, Dick was alive. Bruce didn't remember scooping his boy up into his arms only moments after Dick had returned from his brief visit to the next world. 'I swear, I'll make changes. I'll do whatever it takes.' The solemn pledge came directly from his soul.

Bruce looked down on Dick's deathly pale face. Dark shadows hung beneath his eyes. The blue of his lips, slightly parted due to the tube coming from his throat, seemed to glow against the translucent pallor of his skin. "It'll be okay, chum," Bruce promised. The word 'chum' stung in his ears. For so many years he'd used 'chum' instead of the word that shouted in his heart.

The pounding of boots in the hall invaded Bruce's private world.

Out of nowhere, a hyped Tim appeared. For a split second the teenager froze, staggered by the scene in front of him.

Bruce was cradling Dick in his arms.

Bruce was actually holding Dick!

In the last year, Tim hadn't seen Bruce stand close to anyone, let alone hug them. Wayne had become so insular and clinical, even with Alfred. As for the relationship between Bruce and Dick, Tim had realized that relationship was the wrong word. There was no relationship to speak of. They simply avoided each other unless their 'masks' were in place.

Pulling his hanging jaw closed, the teenager eyed the nurse seated across the room, exchanged a glance with Alfred and Leslie who were standing quietly to one side, and then moved closer to the bed. Lowering his voice, he whispered, "Bruce, I've just heard on the radio that Two-Face..."

"Stuff Two-Face," Bruce interrupted.

Alfred and Leslie exchanged a startled glance. Alfred Pennyworth shut his eyes and gave thanks. Bruce was putting Dick first. It was everything he had hoped and prayed for.

"Huh?" Tim stuttered, his eyes popping at the response.

"I said, stuff Two-Face. I'm needed here." Gently, Bruce adjusted his hold of Dick. Grayson's head wobbled against Wayne's shoulder, Bruce steadying it before sweeping Dick's damp hair from his forehead.

Tim blinked. Was Batman saying no? Had Bruce really used the word 'stuff'? "Oooookkkaaaayyyyyy. I'll... yeah. Well... okay." Wide-eyed, he backed out of the room.

Aware of his audience for the first time, Bruce lowered Dick onto the pillow, careful not to upset the dozen wires attached to him. The doctor walked forward, adjusted her patient's head, checked the tubes coming from his nose and mouth, and then examined the wires, drip and bandages. Bruce hovered, determined to stay close. He needed Dick to know he was there -- would always be there.

"Bruce, you're in the way. Sit down." Leslie strode across to the supervision area and checked the machines monitoring Dick's vitals. After giving the nurse some instructions, she returned to the bed. "No significant change." She laid her hand over Bruce's. "He isn't out of the woods, yet. The next few days are going to be critical." With a nod to Alfred, Leslie left the room.

Bruce felt the brush of an arm settling across his shoulders. "He's going to be alright." It was a declaration. Alfred's gentle squeeze caused Bruce's muscles to ripple. "Everything's going to be fine," Wayne promised, his voice crumbling with emotion. He believed that. He couldn't accept anything else.

"I do believe you are right, son." Alfred drew in a shuddered breath and released it slowly. If Dick pulled through, Alfred knew that Bruce would make every effort to ensure things were made right, but would he be given the chance? Leslie's parting comments weren't as positive as those she'd made before checking the monitors. No 'significant' change. The word 'significant' had taken on a significance of its own.

Bruce glanced up at the man who had the title of butler in name alone. "I don't know how… when… God, Alfred, we almost lost him."

"We did loose him, Master Bruce. Twice."

"I know." Bruce acknowledged. Emotionally, he'd lost Dick years ago. He honestly didn't know why they'd drifted apart. It had started before the events of the dreadful night when, for the second time in Bruce's life, a gun had rocked his existence. As a result, Bruce had made the painful decision to sack Robin. A rift had opened between them, and Dick had walked out of his life. The pain and feeling of loss had been as bad as when he'd lost his parents, but Bruce stood by the decision. He'd done what he needed to, to protect Dick... even though it had meant losing him.

In the years since that fateful night, the rift had become a chasm. Bruce no longer knew the boy he'd raised, but he still cared… loved him. The revelation hurt beyond belief.

Tonight was the second time he'd lost Dick; again as the result of a gun. Bruce began to tremble as the full weight of what could have happened hit him. He'd come within seconds of losing his 'son' forever and he'd have lost him without ever having said the words imprinted on his soul.

"Alfred, was it pride? Fear?" Was I just too weak to admit how much I needed him? Bruce silently questioned himself. He shook his head attempting to blink away the haze veiling his eyes.

"It isn't important. The four of you have provided a second chance. You must not waste it."

"Four of us?" Bruce asked, puzzled.

"You and Dick, Leslie…" Alfred paused and lowered his voice. "And the Almighty."

Bruce sighed and despite the caustic emotions reverberating through him, he smirked.

Alfred's gaze became scathing. "You can wipe that smile off your face, young man. This Sunday we will be in church giving thanks." There were few times Alfred's voice held such a tone... the tone of a father providing an instruction that wasn't negotiable.

Wayne's head bobbed in defeat. Noting how tired the elderly man appeared, Bruce rose, indicated for the butler to take the chair, and then sat himself on the edge of Dick's bed. He picked up his boy's hand and squeezed it. "He feels cold. Do you think…"

"The nurses know what they're doing, Master Bruce," Alfred assured, nodding to the intensive care specialist who was seated at her station. The plump woman glanced up, smiled and then returned to unobtrusively doing her job.

Apart from the beeping of the dozen monitors surrounding the bed, the room became silent.

"Dick never gave up on me," Bruce whispered.

"He couldn't." Alfred's hushed voice echoed in the room. "I don't doubt there were times he wished to. I know I have wanted to on several occasions, but fortunately, it is impossible to give up on those you love."

Bruce's Adam's apple jumped. He lifted his gaze to the man who had been the stable force in his life and then returned to looking at his boy. "Don't worry, Alfred. The three of us are going to make it."…

vvv

_**Pine Village, Havico - The present**_

"… **but I don't think they see her very often. She lives on the mainland these days. Here we are," MacIntosh announced, holding the door open for Bruce. Wayne stepped into the tavern and balked at the temperature. **

"**Warm, isn't it," the lawyer chuckled. "That's why I chose it. This is the warmest place on the island. I've booked the conference room for us. By the way…" Once again, MacIntosh's babble faded into the memories the billionaire was recalling.**

vvv

_**Gotham General Hospital -- 11 weeks 2 days earlier**_

Bruce could hear most of the whispered conversation taking place in the corridor just outside the room.

Alfred: But you said he was going to be okay.

Leslie: You know I didn't say that. I said that he appeared to be out of danger. I also said that the next few days would be critical.

Alfred: When Master Bruce came into the room, Master Dick woke up.

A long pause.

Leslie: I can't explain that. I wish I could.

Alfred: He's going to be alright, though? With a lot of rest and... Leslie?

Leslie: I can't perform the miracle you want... and neither can he. He's human, Alfred. Humans are basically frail creatures. When a human stops breathing, we have the ability to resuscitate them. When a human heart stops beating, we can start it again with an electrical charge. When all electrical impulses cease in a human brain though, there's nothing medicine can do. We can keep the body 'alive' with machines, but the individual is dead. Five days ago, Dick died.

Alfred: He's alive, Leslie. His brain started again. I see no need for a documented thesis to explain why. Miracles happen. Heaven knows, I have seen enough in this life to know that. He just needs more time and maybe a little bit of help.

Leslie: If I could do something, I would. Dr. Anderson is the best in the field.

Another pause.

Leslie: Alfred, Dick's in a coma. There is very little cognitive activity. It's time we started to prepare ourselves.

Alfred: Prepare ourselves? Oh, no.

Leslie: I'm sorry, Alfred. I… I don't think Dick will come out of the coma.

Continued in part 3

Please leave your email address if you leave a review so I can take the opportunity to thank you.

* * *

I would really love to know what you thought.

**© January 2006 Aussie Nightwriter. : This relates only to the creative property in this story. The distinctive way the story unfolds, the specific dialogue and unique situations are mine. I acknowledge that some of the characters and settings belong to DC comics. (g) No infrigement of copyright was intended and no profit has been made from this story... so, please don't sue me. It wouldn't be worth your while.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A Father's Day to Remember  
**A Sequel to "Lake of Lost Souls"

by AUSSIE NIGHTWRITER

**_DISCLAIMER_: I do not own any of the characters. Nightwing and all of his friends belongs to DC comics. I'd be a happy woman if Dick belonged to me...but no such luck. I have not made any profit out of writing this, so please don't sue me. It would not be worth your while. **

**_Author Comment_: I know I have been away for a long time and I'm afraid I'm a bit rusty. Please note, this story has not been betaed. **

This is the promised sequel to the story "Lake of Lost Souls." Sorry it has taken so long.

**_Special Thanks_: Thank you to all those people who have left such wonderful feedback on my previous stories. Melissa - you didn't leave your email so I couldn't send thanks. **

* * *

**A Father's Day to Remember**

Sequel to "Lake of Lost Souls"

**Part Three **

Bruce's jaw locked. He wasn't prepared to accept that.

For five long, tiring days, the Gotham billionaire had been seated in the chair by the bed with his fist tightly curled around his former ward's hand... anchoring his boy in this world. He had left Dick's side only to use the bathroom. Through each hour, the EEG had continued to beep and flash, something that Bruce had found reassuring for the first twenty-four hours. However, the beeps and flashes were now far and few between. Bruce was well aware of the fact that Dick's brain activity had slowed to practically nothing, but that didn't mean his boy wasn't going to wake up.

Bruce squeezed Dick's hand, noting the calluses. Certainly not the hand of a pianist. The strong hand of an acrobat -- the failsafe grip that had saved Batman's life too many times to count.

Leslie entered the oppressive ward, followed by Alfred, the latter's eyes welled with tears. He had finally accepted what Leslie was saying. Despite Dick's strength and the efforts of the world's expert, they were going to lose the boy. Rather than looking at the frail young man in the bed, Alfred settled his attention on Bruce. Right now, he was Alfred's priority.

In the past few days, the butler had repeatedly tried to convince his dishevelled charge to go home and get some rest, but Wayne had refused. He would not leave Dick and as a result, his stubbled face had become puffy with weariness and worry, and his eyes more distant with each passing hour.

Leslie moved to the head of the bed, signalled the intensive care nurse to leave them alone and once the woman had exited the room, the doctor turned to face Bruce. "We need to talk."

"I heard what you were saying," Wayne responded stoically.

Leslie licked her lips. She hadn't anticipated that. "Son, I know that..."

"He'll be okay," Bruce interrupted. The tone was deadpan. A statement of fact and woe betide anyone who argued.

Alfred lowered his face and his heart shattered. From somewhere he needed to find the strength to help Bruce through this, but Alfred was beginning to realize he may not have the strength to get himself through. They were losing Dick and there wasn't a thing any of them could do to save him.

Leslie crouched so that she was at eye level with Bruce. Usually she didn't have difficulty informing families that their loved one was nearing the end. It wasn't pleasant, but Leslie had been a doctor for more years than she cared to remember. The key was compassion and keeping herself emotionally separated from the situation. There lay the problem. Leslie was emotionally involved whether she liked it or not. She'd helped to raise Bruce Wayne and had known and loved Dick all his life. In other words, they were family.

"He isn't okay, Bruce." Her voice wavered. Leslie rose and ran her hand through Dick's dark hair which stood out in contrast to his ghostly complexion. Grayson was losing the battle. He had been since the moment he had 'come back'. There was no doubt that he was fighting. If he wasn't, he'd have slipped away long before. Dr. Anderson admitted that in all his years, he'd never seen anyone with such a strong will to live. However, there was no way Dick could win this fight. Each passing hour took him closer to the end. The power of love had brought him back once, but it wasn't going to be enough to save his life.

"He's human. I know we are all used to him performing amazing feats, but he..." Three harsh, determined words cut the doctor off.

"Dick, wake up."

Alfred lifted his tear-streaked face. Leslie turned to Bruce, shocked.

"Dick, wake up," he repeated, staring at pale young man intently.

Leslie's bottom lip began to tremble. Bruce was ordering Dick to live. "It doesn't work that way, Bruce," she whispered. "Even with all your skills, you can't control death. Dick stayed with us longer than anyone else could have. He did that for you, but..."

"Damn it, Dick. Wake up." Bruce's entire body was rigid, his lips fine and pressed together, the nerve in his left cheek rippling uncontrollably.

Alfred stepped up to the billionaire and started to reach out to him. Bruce rose so abruptly he knocked the chair off its legs. The furniture crashed to the ground in an explosion of sound.

"Nightwing, report in."

Tears spilled down Leslie's face as she watched grief tear apart the strongest man she'd ever known.

Alfred slid his arm around Bruce's back and hugged him in a futile attempt to protect him. Bruce's expression became harder... but then, it was no longer Bruce Wayne.

"Nightwing, report your status," Batman ordered, his hands balling into fists.

Out of the corner of his eye, Alfred spotted something astonishing.

"Bruce..." Leslie got no further, her attention grabbed by the stunned butler, who was pointing a shaky finger at the EEG machine. The beeping and flashing had started to increase. The doctor's eyes grew wide. It wasn't possible.

"I'm waiting, Nightwing. Report your status!"

Dick Grayson's brain activity soared. Leslie dragged her attention from the machine to her patient. Dick's ashen features twitched.

"NIGHTWING, REPORT YOUR STATUS, NOW!"

The moment the roar left Batman's lips, Dick's eyes snapped open.

"My God," Leslie cried. Instantly, she sprang into action. "Nurse! Nurse!" The intensive care professional reappeared. "Summon Dr. Anderson." Turning back to Dick, Leslie spoke calmly. "Dick? Dick, look at me."

"He's awake!" Alfred cried, incredulously. "He's awake. Master Dick!"

Grayson's eyelids dropped, but he caught them only millimetres from shutting. They drooped heavily over his dull blue eyes as he struggled to hang on to consciousness.

"Dick. Come on, son. Look at me. I need to know if you understand me." The danger of brain damage was higher than Leslie had been prepared to admit. "Dick?" She licked her lips, glanced up at Bruce and Alfred and shook her head slowly. He wasn't responding.

The euphoria on Alfred's lined face drained away. "Master Dick?"

No reaction. No sign of any awareness. Just two blank eyes peering out at nothing.

Dr. Anderson rushed into the room, jostled Alfred out of the way, moved up to his patient and flashed a light into Dick's eyes.

Alfred held his breath.

Batman frowned at the intruder.

"Pupils are responding to light." Anderson flicked the light from side to side. "Follow the light, Dick." Grayson's eyes didn't move -- staring emptily ahead. Anderson continued his examination for several moments, but Dick failed to show any sign that he was aware of what was going on around him. His haunting blue eyes continued to stare unseeing into space through the slits his eyelids permitted.

"No," Anderson diagnosed softly. "I'm sorry, Dr. Thompkins. He doesn't appear to have any conscious brain activity beyond reflex responses."

"Which means?" Alfred's voice reflected his fear.

Dr. Anderson placed his hand on Leslie's shoulder. "It is too early to tell without proper tests, but I'm afraid my preliminary examination indicates considerable loss of brain dexterity. I'm sorry."

Alfred swallowed. "Brain damage?"

"He's in a vegetative state. I'm sorry."

Batman eyed the other occupants of the room as if they were all speaking gibberish, leaned over the bed and whispered firmly, "Nightwing, report your status." Grayson's eyes flicked to the right and his blank expression dissolved as his attention was drawn to the voice he knew better than his own.

Leslie's hand covered her mouth. Dick was responding to Bruce.

"He heard you," Alfred gasped.

Dr. Anderson's jaw dropped.

"Status report," Batman repeated.

Dick's pale lips parted. Two weak words formed around the tube in his throat. "Status... shitty." Dick's eyes closed immediately, but Batman felt a flutter of pressure in his hand as Dick used the only method he could to let his partner know he was okay.

Batman vanished. Bruce Wayne's face creased with a smile of relief, triumph and a lot of pride.

"You were saying, Doctor?" Alfred demanded, anger siphoning away the relief. "I thought you were supposed to be some sort of expert."

Dr. Anderson shook his head. "Incredible. His will to live it amazing. I have never seen anything like this. "

Leslie smiled. "And you never will again."

"He answered you. What did he say?" Anderson demanded.

"Enough." Dick had said enough. Bruce reached out and brushed his boy's hair off his forehead. Dick hadn't just made sounds or said words. He'd responded to Bruce's request, which had required higher order thinking... not to mention the series of coded squeezes that spelled out the two words, 'I'm okay.'

"Welcome back, chum."

Again, Bruce felt Dick's hand move in his own... no code this time. Just a reassuring squeeze. Wayne straightened his back, slid his free arm across Alfred's shoulders and smiled. "See, I told you. Our boy is going to be just fine, Alfred."

VVV

_**Pine Village, Havico - The present**_

"**Mr. Wayne?" **

**Bruce blinked. **

"**Mr. Wayne?"**

**The hospital scene dissolved, replaced by the interior of the Deer Head Tavern. "Sorry." **

"**Are you okay?" MacIntosh inquired, his eyebrows drawing down with curiosity.**

"**Yes. Sorry. I'm just a little distracted."**

"**Understandable. It's a lot of money, but I think you will find the island worth it. If you just wait here, I'll get the key to the conference room." Bruce frowned. "Relax, Mr. Wayne. Don Sutton, the owner of the tavern, talks and talks and talks, if you know what I mean? If he realizes who you are, we'll get caught with him. So, if you just take a seat here, I'll get the key and be back as soon as I can."**

"**Alright," Bruce agreed. "Mr. MacIntosh, please don't think me rude, but I'm in something of a hurry."**

**MacIntosh looked a little surprised. "Of course, Mr. Wayne. I won't be long." The lawyer made his way across the dimly lit room and disappeared. **

**Wayne murmured under his breath. What he had just done was a cardinal sin in the business world. He was about to sign a billion dollar contract and he was giving the impression he had more important things to do. The problem was, he did have more important things to do and for the first time, it didn't involve pulling on the cowl. For one thing, he didn't like Dick being unsupervised in case he had another seizure. Dick may have dismissed the possibility, insisting that it had been almost two months since his last one, but Leslie hadn't been able to explain the cause and that worried Bruce.**

**Reaching up to his temples, Bruce massaged them gingerly as he took a seat at the closest table. His head was pounding and his stomach churning. Glancing down at his watch, he muttered with annoyance. He needed to get this out of the way so he and Dick could talk. The problem was, he wasn't sure what he should say. He could say 'sorry', but he honestly wasn't certain what he'd be apologising for. Dick was sensitive about money, that much he had fathomed. The billionaire made a mental note not to make the mistake of offering money again. **

**Wayne looked over at the bar where several customers were already set for the day, despite the early hour. Bruce's right leg began to bounce. **

"**Come on, come on," he murmured, checking the door MacIntosh had disappeared through. Shaking his head, he took his pen out of his pocket. He'd scan the document, sign it and then track Dick down. The engraving on the cheap gold pen caught his eye. Dick had given it to him for his birthday so many years past that Bruce couldn't remember which one, but he always carried it with him. As his thoughts moved to Dick, he found himself swallowed again by the memories with him day and night…**

**VVV**

_Gotham General Hospital -- 11 weeks 1 day earlier_

"There are a couple of things we should discuss before I bring him around," Leslie informed Bruce and Alfred, who were on either side of the bed. Impatiently filling the doorway were Barbara and Tim.

"First, we can't take anything for granted. He's been through major surgery again and is considered critical. Our biggest concern though, is the brain seizure." Following Dick's brief conscious moment the day before, all of his vitals had started to strengthen. However, over night, he'd taken a fit. The brain seizure had come from nowhere and neither Leslie nor Dr. Anderson had an explanation for it. During the fit, his injured lung had collapsed and filled with blood. Now, Dick was back on a respirator and Leslie couldn't be sure if the seizure had caused any permanent brain injury.

Following lengthy consultation with doctors from around the world, Dr. Thompkins had been advised to intentionally bring her patient around to check the extent of any damage.

"My other concern is the risk of infection. He doesn't have a lot in reserve to fight it. I've got him on the strongest antibiotics I can," she added, inclining her head to the I.V. "At the moment, they're working."

"But that could change?" Alfred asked, his voice thin with weariness and worry. The dark bags under his eyes had become the most prominent feature of his lined face.

"It could change in a split second. We're on knife edge at the moment. I honestly don't know what caused the seizure. It may be a one-off thing. Then again… it may not."

The statement left Alfred reeling. He was on an emotional roller coaster. One minute his emotions were soaring with unrestrained jubilation and then they were crashing again as the reality of the situation penetrated his world. 'Improving' and 'stronger' didn't equate with Dick actually pulling through, as last night had so brutally shown. Even Bruce didn't seem so certain now.

"He is capable of breathing unassisted, but we need to build up his strength so his body can take over the functions the machines are performing for him at the moment."

Bruce, who was sitting on the edge of the chair by the bed, shook his head. His boy had been on the mend and then… Wayne would never forget trying to hold Dick down on the stretcher as Leslie raced his convulsing body to the operating theatre.

It shouldn't have been Dick. Dick hadn't been the target of the sniper.

"So why wake him at this stage at all?" the emotionally exhausted man asked. Confusion and anguish flowed with the words and were highlighted in Bruce's hollow eyes.

Leslie wrapped her arms across herself. Thirty-six hours without sleep was beginning to catch up with her. "Because it is the only way we will be able to tell if there has been brain damage following last night's seizure." The statement echoed in the room.

Brain damage. The term pounded in Bruce's mind and he squeezed his eyes shut. Anything but that. Releasing a jagged breath and blinking his eyes open, Bruce rubbed his hand over his four day stubble. "How much will you be able to tell today?"

"Yesterday, he answered Master Bruce," Alfred pointed out, clutching at the only positive he could see. "It was my understanding that that showed complex thinking."

"It did, but last night everything changed. The seizure wasn't a small one. However, it may not have harmed him, apart from making him very weak."

"Or?" Alfred asked.

"Or it could have… " Leslie swallowed. She was struggling. She felt so helpless. Dealing with an unknown factor was always difficult, but when the life involved was someone she loved dearly, maintaining her professional impartiality was impossible.

"I've reduced the drugs I'm giving him so I can bring him around. I don't know how aware he'll be, though. He may have some short term memory loss. That's normal. We should be able to tell fairly quickly if the seizure has caused any impairment. If everything is okay, we must impress upon Dick that his recovery will be slow and lengthy -- two words he will fail to understand or choose to ignore. I don't want any pressure put on his organs, especially his lungs, so we need to keep him calm. No stress. He has been through…"

"We understand, Leslie. He isn't to be upset and I will personally ensure he understands that he will be tied to the bed if he even looks like getting out of it," Alfred stated seriously, walking over and sliding his arm around the doctor's back.

Dr. Thompkins forced a smile. "Good. From here on, the motto is slow and easy. Two steps forward, one step back. He isn't going to bounce back overnight, like he has in the past. The road to recovery is going to be slow, bumpy and uncertain. We came this close" she explained, raising her fingers and parting them half an inch, "to losing him. Both his body and his cerebrum have been through great trauma. There are no guarantees. Dr. Anderson has grave concerns. Speaking of Dr. Anderson, he's going to devote an entire chapter of his new book to Dick," Leslie finished, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

"He's writing a book," Alfred scoffed, releasing the woman. "What is it called? 'Thoughts of an Incompetent'?"

Leslie patted his arm. "Don't judge him too harshly."

"He wrote Master Dick off from day one."

"He thought he was dealing with an 'ordinary' person."

Alfred's lips pursed. "I can't think of anything more embarrassing than to be classified 'ordinary.'

Leslie laughed, though the artificial mirth masked her anxiety. What she was about to do had associated risks. Dick's return to consciousness the day before had been brief, but miraculous... there was no other way to describe it. Medically, there was no explanation. A return to consciousness with the amount of drugs in his system, let alone the lack of brain activity he was demonstrating, should have been impossible. Yet, he had woken up. 'How' was a question Leslie had long ago learned not to ask in association with both Bruce and Dick. 'How' required a medical solution and she didn't have one. 'Why' on the other hand, intrigued her. Why had Dick awoken at the sound of Bruce's voice? Because Bruce had somehow reached him in a way that was beyond scientific understanding? Leslie had seen these two men do some amazing things over the years, but the past few days had left everything else in its wake.

"Okay, here we go." Carefully, she inserted a needle into Dick's I.V. The drug would temporarily counter the one she was using to keep him under.

Dick's heavily bandaged chest rose and fell rhythmically as the doctor removed the respirator and waited to see if Dick's injured lung would be able to take up the work load.

"So far so good," she muttered. She only required a few minutes to obtain the answers she needed before placing Dick back on the breathing apparatus. However, she would have to monitor both his lung and brain activity very carefully.

Next, Leslie removed the tube from Dick's throat. As she did so, the pale young man moaned.

"He's waking up," Tim cried from the doorway.

"Shhh. Just let him come out of this on his own," Leslie ordered, raising the bed with the remote control.

Continued in part 4

Please leave your email address if you leave a review so I can take the opportunity to thank you.

* * *

I would really love to know what you thought.

**© January 2006 Aussie Nightwriter. : This relates only to the creative property in this story. The distinctive way the story unfolds, the specific dialogue and unique situations are mine. I acknowledge that some of the characters and settings belong to DC comics. (g) No infrigement of copyright was intended and no profit has been made from this story... so, please don't sue me. It wouldn't be worth your while.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A Father's Day to Remember  
**A Sequel to "Lake of Lost Souls"

by AUSSIE NIGHTWRITER

**_DISCLAIMER_: I do not own any of the characters. Nightwing and all of his friends belongs to DC comics. I'd be a happy woman if Dick belonged to me...but no such luck. I have not made any profit out of writing this, so please don't sue me. It would not be worth your while. **

**_Author Comment_: I know I have been away for a long time and I'm afraid I'm a bit rusty. Huge thank you to Em for betaing for me.. **

This is the promised sequel to the story "Lake of Lost Souls." Sorry it has taken so long.

**_Special Thanks_: Thank you to all those people who have left such wonderful feedback on my previous stories. Perfect Disaster - you didn't leave your email so I couldn't send thanks. **

* * *

**A Father's Day to Remember**

Sequel to "Lake of Lost Souls"

**Part Four **

**Alfred evaluated Dick's visible condition - skin pasty, blending perfectly into the bleached pillow. That was the first thing that Alfred would undo when he got the boy home. A little sun would bring back the natural rich tan and some good home made meals would put healthy colour into his hollow cheeks and blue tinged lips -- lips drooped ever so slightly, cheating Alfred out of that cheeky smirk he loved so much. Even as an adult, Dick hadn't lost that. **

**Alfred's heart ached. Only yesterday he'd been celebrating the fact that Dick was going to be okay and coming home soon. That had been grossly premature. Each day there were small victories, but also massive setbacks. However, Alfred promised himself that he would take Dick home and he would get the young man back on his feet. He would. He had to.**

**Leslie pulled the covers down to her patient's waist, exposing his well-muscled chest. Lifting the bandages, which were hiding deep bruising, she checked the tube that was still draining away fluid from his injured lung. "When he wakes, he may be disoriented. No speaking. Leave that to me. I don't want him focusing on more than one voice. Understood?"**

**Nods came from all occupants -- including Barbara and Tim, who had edged into the room. The corridors outside were silent and empty, apart from the muffled sound of drilling and hammering from another part of the wing. Dick had been moved to the new Wayne Wing of the hospital, despite the fact that it was still under construction. The reason was simple. The Paparazzi had breached hospital security on three different occasions, one photographer actually entering Grayson's room. Needless to say, Bruce had 'dealt' with him and the misguided man was now a patient of the hospital himself. **

**The frenzied mob camped foyer and spilling out into the street was desperate to snap that one photo that newspapers and magazines around the world would pay hundreds of thousands for. Concerns not only for Dick's privacy, but his safety, had prompted the decision to 'hide' the injured man in the section of the new wing that was all but completed. Two nurses were sworn to secrecy and assigned to him -- taking shifts to look after their patient.**

**Leslie adjusted the monitors so she could see them clearly. "We need to keep his heart rate steady and watch that lung."**

"**Calm and easy," Tim agreed.**

"**I'll need…" Leslie paused as Dick drew in a deeper breath and held it before releasing it. "Here he comes." Bruce rose to his feet. Barbara's hand came up to cover her mouth.**

**Grayson's eyes darted below the lids and he grimaced as consciousness came closer and then drifted out of reach. "Easy, son," Leslie encouraged, placing her hand on his brow. The rapid eye movement increased, accompanied by twitching around his mouth. A low, distressed sound emanated from the back of his throat. **

**Leslie eyed the monitors.**

**Bruce firmly squeezed Dick's limp hand. Grayson's eyes fluttered open briefly and then closed. Everyone held their breath, each addressing their personal anxiety. **

"**Come on, Dick," Leslie invited, tapping the side of his face. "Let's see those devastating blue eyes that have melted a million hearts."**

**Dick's chest heaved again, and with great effort, he lifted his eyelids. Leslie moved above him and smiled. "Hello."**

**Grayson's ashen lips curled, but no word formed. **

"**Shhh. No need to speak. I've just taken a tube out of your throat, so it may be feeling a little uncomfortable." Dick didn't respond, his eyes closing. **

"**Leslie?" Bruce demanded.**

"**Relax. It's just taking him a while to wake fully. As I said, he's still heavily drugged. So far, his brain activity is normal." **

**It was three long, anxious minutes before Dick's eyes opened again. This time, the countering drug appeared to be taking effect and he was more aware.**

"**Hello again." **

**Dick's expressive eyes displayed uncertainty and suspicion.**

"**Just relax. You're okay. I want you nod or shake your head to answer my questions. Do you know your name?"**

**Dick peered at her for a long time from under the heavy lids that threatened to crash over his eyes at any moment. He started to search above him, but Leslie moved to mask his view. **

"**Keep looking at me, son. Do you know your name?"**

**He nodded hesitantly. **

**Barbara reached for Tim's hand. She was shaking all over. The teenager crouched down beside her and slipped his arm around her back. **

**Alfred began to knead the blanket.**

**Bruce just stood, his fingers curled around Dick's hand.**

"**Do you know where you are?" Leslie asked.**

**Grayson grimaced. "Hos..pit..al." **

**Tim squeezed Barbara and gave her an encouraging nod. Alfred's kneading became more determined. Bruce's Adam's apple jumped.**

"**Shhh. Don't speak yet. Yes, you're in hospital. Do you remember what happened?"**

**Dick blinked and recognition of the woman above him settled on his face. "I… was hit by… a… bus, Leslie?" A half a smile washed over him.**

"**Thank you, God," Barbara whispered, passionately. Tim's face spread with a wide smile. Alfred's kneading became frantic. Bruce didn't move.**

**Leslie brushed her hand along Dick's cheek. "You need to do better than that."**

**His brow furrowed a little and he shook his head.**

"**You were shot." All waited for Dick's response. **

"**Shot? It... penetrated my... suit?" Dick asked puzzled, his breathy voice strained. **

**Leslie's smile broadened. That was a question based on reasoning -- he was demonstrating higher order thinking skills which were usually the first to go with brain injury resulting from seizures. "You weren't wearing it."**

"**Bludhaven?" **

**Alfred winked at Tim and Barbara. He could tell by Leslie's expression that whatever she'd been worried about had been dispelled by Dick's last few words.**

"**It happened in Gotham. Can you remember?"**

**Grayson's head moved from side to side on the pillow.**

"**It's alright." She ran her fingertips along his cheek, her smiling face a testament to her relief. "It'll come back later, son."**

**Dick's brow creased further. "Bruce?" he asked. Wayne applied pressure to the puzzled young man's hand. Grayson's head rolled in that direction. The rest of the confusion faded as his hooded gaze fell on his former guardian "Hey, boss."**

"**You had us worried," Wayne informed him. **

**Dick's right eye pinched at the side. "The sniper." The memory played out in his foggy mind. Spotting the sniper… realizing what was going to happen… running… knowing there was nothing he could do… leaping up onto the table…**

"**Easy, Dick," Leslie warned, watching the monitors. "It's alright."**

"**I… couldn't… stop… him." Dick paused and he attempted to swallow, but his throat refused to co-operate. **

"**Take it slow, Dick," Leslie ordered. "I'll get you some water in a moment." She knew the drug she'd given him would be wearing off already. Soon, he would fall sleep and she would put him back on the respirator.**

**Dick stared up at Bruce. "Did you… get him?" he panted. **

"**I got him," Bruce murmured. "Don't worry about that. How do you feel?"**

**Mystification wove its way over Dick's pallid features. "I'm… a bit… tired. He was just… a paid assassin. … Who was behind… it?"**

"**I said to forget it," Bruce repeated, his voice rising with frustration. He didn't want Dick focusing on that. 'That' wasn't important. **

**Grayson blinked.**

**Alfred cleared his throat purposefully. "Sir."**

**Bruce deliberately ignored the butler. **

"**Slow and easy," Alfred encouraged.**

"**I… thought the… sniper was… a part of…." Dick tried to explain. The words weren't coming easily.**

"**Shhh," Leslie whispered, the beeping of the heart monitor becoming louder.**

"**I did what… I had to… to save your… life," Dick growled. Despite his overwhelming weakness and the lack of volume, Dick's annoyance was clearly communicated.**

"**Calm down," Leslie ordered, her eyes fixed on the monitors. **

**Alfred walked around the bed and gave Bruce a gentle prod. "Encourage him," the butler ordered.**

**Bruce glared at Alfred. "That's what I'm trying to do."**

**Alfred set his jaw. "You are failing dismally. Try again."**

**Dick frowned at the pair, not understanding what was going on. His vision began to blur a little. "There was… so much… noise that I…"**

**Wayne sought to understand the tidal wave of emotions which was making it difficult for him hold everything together. As he looked down on his boy, the difficulty faded and his heart opened. "It's okay, Dick," he assured gently. "Really, it's okay… … Ummm," he struggled to think of something else to say. "Ummmm. Harvey hired the shooter."**

**Alfred lowered his gaze. That was it. That was the first thing Bruce could think to say to Dick after all that had happened. Sadly, despite all he had said and promised, and probably all he truly wanted, Bruce was falling back on his relationship with Nightwing.**

"**Two-Face?" Dick asked, beginning to blink steadily. He was being drawn back into the cocoon of nothingness. Darkness encroached at the edges of his vision. "Why?"**

"**I don't know." **

"**Then why… don't you go…ask him?" _Go and get him. I'm okay. _The silent message blazed before Dick's eyes closed.**

**Wayne licked his lips. "Dick, I…" Grayson's chest rose and fell smoothly. The heart monitor evened out. His mouth sagged a little as he drifted off.**

"**He's asleep," Leslie whispered. **

"**Leslie?" Alfred requested, watching as the doctor placed the respirator back in place.**

"**He was more aware than I expected. His cognitive processing was strong. There was no evidence of the seizure causing any gross brain damage. He remembered exactly what happened, he was reasoning and questioning, and he was certainly acting in character. They're all good signs." **

**Bruce nodded, thoughtfully. "He was very weak." **

"**Bruce, after what he's been through, it's more than we could have hoped for."**

"**And the seizure?"**

"**I don't know. What I do know is that the one he took was severe, but doesn't appear to have caused any damage. It may have been a one-off. We won't know unless he has another."**

**Wayne nodded. "I need to go."**

"**What?" Alfred spluttered. "Go? Go where?" The butler recognised the expression looking back at him. "Surely that can wait!"**

"**Harvey's still out there and every moment he's on the street innocent people are in danger." **

**Alfred was at a loss. For five days Bruce hadn't moved. For five days Alfred had believed that Bruce was finally getting his priorities straightened out. Yet, at the first sign of improvement, Bruce was turning his back on Dick. "And what about Master Dick?" Alfred demanded. The accusation hung in the room for several uncomfortable moments. "Leslie has already said that he isn't out of danger yet. 'Improving', 'stronger' and 'better' don't mean he's going to be alright."**

"**I know, but Harvey's after me. I need to take him down before he tries again."**

"**Forget Two-Face," Barbara exploded. She had held her tongue long enough. "Dick needs you here. For a couple days I thought you had become human! I thought that you were finally going to be able to put your obsession aside for him. But you can't, can you? Batman has to come first. Tell me I'm wrong!" She screamed, tears of rage streaming down her face.**

"**Barbara," Tim started.**

"**Shut-up, Tim! Dick has always put you first, Bruce," Barbara cried, her emerald eyes ablaze. "Even when he wanted to turn his back on you and your damned war, he couldn't… not for the war, but for you. Just once, just once in his life, won't you put him first?"**

"**That's enough," Leslie ordered. "If you two want to slog it out, do it outside. This is a hospital ward."**

**Bruce and Barbara continued to glare at each other over the top of the bed.**

**Alfred placed his hand on the young woman's shoulder, at the same time, eyeing Bruce curiously. There had to be more behind Bruce's decision to leave. **

**Tim stood between the two camps, feeling hurt and lost. Leslie took his hand and guided him up to Dick. With a smile, she laid his hand on Dick's arm. Tim swallowed, but as he looked down on Dick, the tension in his young face drained away. "Hey, bro. You better get better soon, or I'm going to go out of my mind," he whispered.**

"**I have to take down Harvey," Bruce stated without emotion. "I don't want Dick caught in the crossfire again."**

**Alfred sighed. There is was. In his own strange, misguided way, Bruce _was _thinking of Dick.**

**Barbara swallowed. "You think he'll come after you here?"**

"**I'm not willing to take a chance with Dick's life. Tim," Bruce ordered.**

"**Hey?" Tim asked, dragging his attention from the man he loved like a brother. "I was just going to…" Bruce's eyes hardened. "Yeah, okay. I'll see you later, Dick," Tim whispered to the sleeping man. "He sounded good, don't you think?"**

**Barbara mouthed the word, 'sorry' to him. Tim smiled and then headed out of the room.**

**Bruce turned to Alfred. "I want you to go and get some rest for the next couple of hours."**

"**My place is here."**

**Bruce shook his head. "Barbara can stay with Dick for the next few hours. I'll need her help later tonight. That's when you'll need to be fresh so you can take over."**

"**It's alright, Alfred. I'll stay with him," Barbara promised, rolling herself forward. "You do look tired."**

**Alfred sighed. He _was _tired, both physically and emotionally. He didn't deny that, but at the moment, he needed to stay close to the boy he loved like a grandson. "I will catch a few hours sleep in this chair."**

"**No you won't," Leslie interrupted. "As Bruce just said, Dick will need you later on if he wakes and Bruce isn't here. You can use the doctor's lounge. There are a couple of beds there. Come on." She took Alfred's arm, and before he could argue, dragged him toward the door.**

"**Leslie?" Bruce needed confirmation before he left.**

**The doctor paused and glanced back over her shoulder. "With a lot of rest, no complications or infections, and long, patient and no doubt painful rehabilitation, I think he'll be okay, Bruce. Dr. Anderson has a number of tests he wants to perform, but from what I've seen, I'm confident. I wouldn't be so confident with anyone else, but 'ordinary' isn't a word that can be applied to our boy. Of course, the seizure wasn't ordinary either. It's still and unknown factor, but one that I don't believe is life threatening."**

**Wayne acknowledged the diagnosis with a nod and then moved up beside Dick. "Rest easy, chum," he whispered, running his hand through the silent young man's hair. For long seconds he appeared lost in the moment, and then the mask fell into place. The tone that followed was firm and emotionless. "Oracle, no one comes into this room."**

"**I'll look after him, Bruce," she assured, inclining her head to the concealed weapons in the side of her chair. Reaching out, Barbara picked up one of Dick's hands. "No one comes through that door unless I know them," she assured. Wheelchair bound she may be, but Oracle was still a force to be reckoned with. She would protect Dick with her life.**

"**I'll report in every thirty minutes. If there is any change here, I want to know about it immediately."**

"**Understood. And, I'm sorry about my outburst. I guess this has affected me more than I want to admit." **

**Bruce looked at her blankly for several moments. "Yes," he agreed. His attention returned to Dick for a few seconds and then he spun toward the door. "Tim, we have work to do."**

**VVVVV**

_Pine Village, Havico - The present_

Bruce rolled the pen between his fingers. It has been a mistake leaving Dick's side to go after Two-Face. He should have sent Tim and Cassie to do it. During the three days it took him to track down the villain, Dick had had two more seizures. There had been a total of seven, but none for the past eight weeks. Leslie suspected that the trauma Dick had experienced may have brought on epilepsy, but all of his EEG scans since had been clear.

Dick had simply dismissed it all and had every intension of returning to his life in Bludhaven as both a Police Officer and Nightwing. Bruce had grave reservations about both. Somehow, he had to get Dick to see sense. There was still no clear explanation for the seizures and while Leslie had signed on the dotted line enabling Dick to return to active duty once he was fully recovered, she had admitted that there was a very slim chance Dick could take another fit. The risks were too great in Bruce's mind - slim or not. What if Dick had a seizure while swinging out over the city, when facing some lowlife or when confronting someone like the Joker?

None of the specialists Bruce had engaged over the past weeks had been able to find anything abnormal about Dick's brain patterns; each giving Grayson a clean bill of health. Yet the seizures had happened… and Bruce feared, could happen again.

VVVVV

Continued in part 5

Please leave your email address if you leave a review so I can take the opportunity to thank you.

* * *

I would really love to know what you thought.

**© January 2006 Aussie Nightwriter. : This relates only to the creative property in this story. The distinctive way the story unfolds, the specific dialogue and unique situations are mine. I acknowledge that some of the characters and settings belong to DC comics. (g) No infrigement of copyright was intended and no profit has been made from this story... so, please don't sue me. It wouldn't be worth your while.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A Father's Day to Remember  
**A Sequel to "Lake of Lost Souls"

by AUSSIE NIGHTWRITER

**_DISCLAIMER_: I do not own any of the characters. Nightwing and all of his friends belongs to DC comics. I'd be a happy woman if Dick belonged to me...but no such luck. I have not made any profit out of writing this, so please don't sue me. It would not be worth your while. **

**_Author Comment_: I know I have been away for a long time and I'm afraid I'm a bit rusty. Huge thank you to Em for betaing for me. **

This is the promised sequel to the story "Lake of Lost Souls." Sorry it has taken so long.

**_Special Thanks_: Thank you to all those people who have left such wonderful feedback on my previous stories. **

* * *

**A Father's Day to Remember**

Sequel to "Lake of Lost Souls"

**Part Five **

Pine Village, Havico - The present

Dick flexed his shoulders, testing the coat for size. "Feels good."

The shop assistant nodded, eyeing Dick up and down. "Good fit and even better price."

Dick smirked. "I'll take it."

"Excellent. So what's he like?

"Bruce?" Dick shrugged. "I don't' know."

"Ohhhhhh," the youth commented with a grin. "You two just had a fight? Hey, I understand. My dad and I argue all the time. Let me guess. He wants you to do one thing and thinks he can order you to do it for no other reason than 'I'm your father, boy' and you want to do something else and you've just told him you're old enough to make your own decisions. "

Dick grinned. He liked this boy. The youth was hyper and reminded him a little of Tim. "I _am _old enough to make my own decisions, kid. How old are you?" The pair walked back across to the counter.

"Seventeen. So, I guess you went to college. What's it like?"

"Only went for a while."

"You drop out?" The teenager looked surprised.

"Something like that."

"Wow. I'll bet the shit flew."

"That's one way of putting it… actually, come to think of it, 'the shit flew' is the perfect way of putting it," Dick chuckled, digging his wallet out of his knapsack.

The youth grinned. "My favourite phrase. Needless to say, my dad hates it."

"Needless to say, that's why you use it. You and your dad don't get on?" Dick asked absentmindedly, handing over the money.

"My dad's a good bloke, I guess," the youth murmured, ringing up the sale on the cash register. "A bit old-fashioned. I've tried to talk to him about 'stuff' but he ain't much of a talker. You know?"

"Oh, yeah. I know."

"Yeah? I guess most dads are like that. Most days I want him to just butt out of my life."

Dick frowned. "Don't wish too hard, kid." Dick remembered feeling the same way until Bruce had completely withdrawn and that had been worse than any parental 'interference'.

"Yeah, I know. He found a melanoma on his arm two years back and it scared the shit out of me. Kinda made me realize I do need the old bastard." He laughed handing Dick his change and Grayson realized that the term 'old bastard' was one of endearment to the teenager. "Well, best of luck with it all and drop in any time."

"Thanks and if I were you, I'd consider college. You read people well."

"Yeah?"

"I'd say a career in psychology or sociology… or a politician."

The youth burst our laughing and offered his hand. "I'm Mickey -- not as in mouse. Mickey as in Michael Anderson Jnr.

"Dick Grayson."

"Grayson? But I thought…"

"Bruce isn't my biological father."

"Huh? Ohhhhhh. So your mother played around?" Mickey's eyebrows bounced up and down.

"Definitely a politician or lawyer. Bruce became my guardian when my parents died."

"Sorry. Well, I guess you could have had worse than a multi-billionaire."

"I guess. " Dick smiled. Mickey seemed to have permanent positive outlook on life. Dick remembered the days when he had too. "Well, Michael Anderson Jnr, thanks for the coat and the conversation. I better get going."

As Dick stuffed his wallet back into the knapsack, he spotted 'it' sitting down the bottom. He reached for it and fingered it for several moments. He'd had it for five days and he still didn't know what to... later. He'd worry about it later.

VVVVVVVVVV

Bruce's fingers rapped against the table impatiently, the sound wafting across the room and attracting the attention of those at the bar.

What was taking MacIntosh so long? Wayne's eyes darted to his watch.

Worse still, what was taking Dick so long? He was only buying a coat. What if he'd had another seizure? Bruce's stomach folded in on itself as adrenaline exploded through him, resulting in his rapping fingers curling into a clenched fist.

Realizing his emotions were out of control... something he'd rarely experienced... Bruce took a deep breath and the pounding in his temples increased.

"Dick's fine," he murmured aloud. Dick was one of the most capable men Bruce knew. He could look after himself. Hell, he'd proved that on more occasions than Bruce cared to think about.

Wayne's mind floated back...

_**VVV**_

_**Gotham General Hospital -- 10 weeks 5 day earlier**_

**Bruce stuffed the final part of his costume into the bag and shoved it in the concealed compartment in the limo. Glancing in the mirror, he hastily ran his fingers through his hair, noting the weariness clinging to his face. It had taken him three days to track Two-Face down -- seventy-two hours since he'd seen Dick. He'd been so distracted during that period, he'd been unable think straight. That hadn't happened before. Bruce had always been able to turn off his private life, but he couldn't this time… and honestly hadn't tried.**

**Alfred had kept Bruce informed of Dick's progress and in many ways, that had hindered his ability to focus. When told that Dick had had two more seizures, it had taken every ounce of his self-control not to drop the investigation and rush back to the hospital. The only thing that had prevented Bruce from doing so was the calm assurance from Alfred. The elderly man had promised that Dick was being well cared for and that Nightwing had 'expressed a wish' for Batman to bring Two-Face in. Now that Batman had accomplished that, Bruce just wanted to see his boy.**

**Wayne stepped from the limo and scanned the area, checking for reporters. He had parked on the construction site among the builders' vehicles. There was very little activity outside. The building itself was complete and only cosmetic touches were taking place inside. **

**Bruce strode toward the side entrance, passing several carpenters. Each looked at the expensively dressed but strangely ruffled man curiously, though no one challenged his presence. **

**Despite being focused on other things, something caught Bruce's eye. He slowed his stride and turned back to the car park, watching a stranger get into a pale coloured truck. Wayne's eyes narrowed. The man was dressed in tatty coveralls and carried tools, yet something about him had attracted Bruce's attention. Wayne honed in on the almost unnaturally square jaw and his eyes widened. **

"**The photo!" Bruce ran toward the car. The stranger spotted him, hit the gas and shot out of the parking lot, missed Bruce by less than an inch and almost collided with a car on the main road.**

**Bruce stopped when he reached the sidewalk and mentally recorded the plates. **

**There had been a photo of _that _man amongst Two-Face's things. But who was he? And why was he here?**

**Two-Face's final comment rung in Wayne's ears, "You think you have saved Bruce Wayne, Batman? Every coin has a second side."**

**"A second assassin," Bruce murmured. But if the stranger was a second assassin, why hadn't he... "DICK!" **

**Bruce had no conscious thought. **

**He was running. **

**He knocked a hapless builder out of his way as he stormed the bottom floor of the new wing. The communicator in Bruce's watch sprang to life with Tim's urgent voice. "Bruce! I've got a name on the man in the photo. Donald Redland. Ex-army. Specialist in explosives. I've alerted the hospital. They're evacuating."**

**Bruce's heart skipped a beat. A bomb!**

**"Where are you?" **

**Before Bruce could answer, the alarms started squealing in the next building, but not in the Wayne Wing... alarms had yet to be installed.**

**"EVACUATE," Bruce shouted to the workers. "There's a bomb."**

**Hearing the muffled alarms, the men heeded the warning and rushed toward the exits, shouting to others to do the same. **

**Bruce headed for the stairs and raced up them two at a time. He entered the empty corridor that weaved around to the section that housed Dick's room, his shoes thundering on the polished floors and pounding out his frantic need to reach his family. **

**Alfred and Barbara had seen Bruce arrive from the window of Dick's room and had followed the hall to the very end to wait for him. Both were keen to find out the details of the latest developments but didn't want Dick disturbed following a restless morning.**

**As Bruce darted around the corner, he almost knocked the pair over. **

**"What on earth..." Alfred spluttered, righting himself.**

**Bruce peered down the fifty feet to the open door of Dick's room.**

**"What is it?" Barbara demanded, noting the look of undiluted terror on Bruce's face.**

**"Get out of here!"**

**"What?"**

**"A bomb. Go! I'll get..." **

**The explosion threw all three to the ground. Four more blasts went off in quick succession, rocking the Wayne Wing to its foundations. The wall on the trio's left shattered inward. A wave of heat swamped them. The roof above groaned. Plaster dust and smoke rushed at them from all directions. Fire broke out everywhere. The only clear exit appeared to be the direction Bruce had come from, but the flames were spreading quickly.**

**Bruce forced himself up onto all fours and reached out to Alfred who was struggling to sit up. "Alfred!" he yelled over the top of the ringing in his ears and the roaring of the blaze. Leaping up, he pulled the stunned man to his feet, righted the wheelchair, scooped a dazed Barbara off the floor and deposited her back into it. "Get Barbara out of here."**

**"Master Dick!" Alfred choked out, pointing down the hall that was now alight.**

**"I'll get him. Go!"**

**Bruce started down the corridor. Without thought or so much as a pause, Bruce crashed straight through the flames blocking his path and continued running. He could barely see, but his training told him the open door he could make out was the entrance to Dick's room.**

"**DICK!" The ward was filled with thick, choking smoke, but the flames had yet to reach it. "Dick!" No reply. Bruce stumbled forward. He tripped over something on the ground and ended up on his knees. "Dick!" **

**Nothing but the roaring of the flames from the corridor answered his desperate cries. **

**Bruce was oblivious to the excruciating heat. He was barely aware of the gagging smoke. His mind was set on one task. "Dick!"**

**Wayne reached for what he had tripped over. It was hard -- a chair.**

"**Dick!" Nothing!**

**Bruce clambered to his feet. His lungs were just starting to ache. His eyes were watering profusely. Wayne floundered forward, his legs striking the bed. **

**Thank, God! **

**He grasped desperately for his boy, but the bed was empty. "No!" Had he made a mistake? Was he in the wrong room? "Dick!"**

**There was a gasp to his left. In amongst the thundering and roaring of the fire, Bruce heard his name choked out. **

"Bruce?"

"**Dick!" **

"Wall. Your left," **came the wheezed reply.**

**Bruce made his way around the bed, straining his weeping eyes to see through the impenetrable smoke. He moved left as instructed, found the wall and began patting his way toward the muffled coughing and gasps. Bruce's knees struck something soft. **

"**Dick!" Bruce reached down. Dick was on his knees. Somehow he'd ripped the wires and tubes out of himself, climbed from the bed and had been making his way to the window. Bruce located Dick's arm and dragged the injured man upright. An involuntary scream was wrenched from him. Bruce felt it to his core, but he had no time to be gentle. He had only seconds to get Dick out before they would be cut off or would succumb to the smoke.**

"**I've got you." Bruce threaded Dick's arm across his shoulders and then, following the wall, he dragged his half-conscious burden toward the door. Using the window to escape was out of the question. It didn't open and even if Bruce could smash it, they were a storey up with no rope and Dick wasn't in any condition to be doing any acrobatics.**

**Dick's coughing became more intense, each breath accompanied by a gasp of pain. Grayson collapsed against Bruce, too weak to support his own weight. Wayne strengthened his hold. Dick's body was raked with convulsions as his lungs desperately tried to rid themselves of the intrusive smoke. However, every agony-laced cough was reassuring, for it proved he was still alive.**

**Using his free hand, he followed the wall and found the door. Turning in the opposite direction to the way he'd come, Bruce made his way toward the fire escape he knew was a few feet down the corridor.**

**A fifth explosion rocked the building and part of the roof gave away. Bruce curled Dick into him, using his own body to protect his child as debris rained down on them.**

**VV**

**Continued in part 6 **

Please leave your email address if you leave a review so I can take the opportunity to thank you.

* * *

**I would really love to know what you thought.**

**© January 2006 Aussie Nightwriter. : This relates only to the creative property in this story. The distinctive way the story unfolds, the specific dialogue and unique situations are mine. I acknowledge that some of the characters and settings belong to DC comics. (g) No infrigement of copyright was intended and no profit has been made from this story... so, please don't sue me. It wouldn't be worth your while.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A Father's Day to Remember  
**A Sequel to "Lake of Lost Souls"

by AUSSIE NIGHTWRITER

**_DISCLAIMER_: I do not own any of the characters. Nightwing and all of his friends belongs to DC comics. I'd be a happy woman if Dick belonged to me...but no such luck. I have not made any profit out of writing this, so please don't sue me. It would not be worth your while. **

**_Author Comment_:  
# I know I have been away for a long time and I'm afraid I'm a bit rusty.  
# HUGE THANK YOU TO EM for betaing for me.  
# This is the promised sequel to the story "Lake of Lost Souls." Sorry it has taken so long.  
# I have no medical knowledge so there a bound to be inaccuracies in this story. I invite you to enjoy it for what it is... and rumble about a couple of drop dead gorgeous guys. (G) **

**_Special Thanks_: Thank you to all those people who have left such wonderful feedback on my previous stories. **

* * *

**A Father's Day to Remember**

Sequel to "Lake of Lost Souls"

**Part Six **

_Gotham General Hospital -- 10 weeks 5 day earlier_

Outside, sirens screamed as rescue personnel and police arrived on the scene. The street was littered with evacuated patients on stretchers, and medical staff dashing about like ants.

Among the traumatised were Alfred and Barbara. Alfred raced to one of the groups of firemen alighting from their vehicle. "There are two people in there. You must go in after them."

A fireman patted his arm. "Calm down. Where?"

"There!" Alfred cried, pointing to the centre of the inferno. Flames were shooting tens of feet into the air. The Wayne Wing, alone, was ablaze. The rest of the hospital was free of fire. Bruce had been the target, Alfred realized. Somehow the assassin had found out that Dick had been moved to the Wayne Wing and that was the most likely spot Bruce would be.

Alfred stood helplessly watching smoke billow from some of the shattered windows of the new structure. "Don't just stand there! Do something?" he pleaded.

It was clear to all those who had paused to stare at the elderly man that no one would be able to get into that section of the building.

"We'll do what we can, Sir," the fireman assured, but Alfred could tell by the young man's sympathetic expression that there was very little anyone could do.

Everything Alfred cared about was in that building and unlike so many times in the past when he had known 'his boys' were up against impossible odds, this time it wasn't Batman and Nightwing in there... it was Bruce and Dick.

Barbara tore her gaze from Alfred and through her tears she stared up at the firestorm. Bruce should have been out by now. He was taking too long. At that moment, there was a booming sound from within the building.

For a split second, all movement outside paused. The fireman nearest Alfred turned to him. "The internal roofs are caving in. I… I'm sorry." Rescue of any occupants was now out of the question. The structure was unsound and the chances of anyone still being alive had just been reduced to nil.

"No." Alfred's knees buckled and he crashed onto them. "Please, don't take them like this!" A nurse rushed to his aid, but he didn't register her touches of comfort.

Barbara's jaw began to tremble as the full weight of was what had happened hit her. This wasn't right. Bruce and Dick always made it out. No matter what the odds, they always made it. As the trembling spread through her body, Barbara's attention was drawn to movement up on the fire escape on the second floor. "LOOK!" she screamed. A figure materialized through the smoke.

"There's someone up there!" another voice shrieked.

Alfred's eyes grew wide. He'd know that outline anywhere. "Master Bruce!"

Bruce Wayne was making way along the fire escape -- and he wasn't alone. He had Dick in his arms.

"Get some water on them!" a fireman called as others rushed across and started to climb up the external stairs to provide assistance.

Bruce continued to the end of the landing, stopped as he reached the stairs and swung Dick up onto his strong shoulder. Rescue workers met him half way up and tried to take Dick from him, but Wayne had no intention of giving up the precious bundle he was hauling.

He carried Dick to the safety of the street with the aid of two firemen. Coughing uncontrollably, Bruce lowered his boy to the ground. Dick was absolutely silent. No longer were there any reassuring coughs or any other movement from the young man.

"Dick," Bruce gasped. Nurses and doctors rushed toward them, among them, Leslie.

"Someone get me two oxygen masks," Thompkins yelled dropping beside the pair. "I want a stretcher. NOW!" While Leslie grabbed for Dick's neck, trying to establish if there was a pulse, another doctor began expired air resuscitation.

Alfred crouched beside Bruce. "He'll be alright," the elderly man assured, his voice quaking with a mixture of relief and worry.

Bruce was staring at Dick's soot covered face with strangely calm eyes. He had a feeling... he knew. "Dick?" he panted, reaching out and picking up the silent man's hand. The doctor blew another breath into Dick's still lungs.

All waited.

Dick's chest rose and then his body was raked with coughing. Cries of relief and some cheering echoed out of those crowded around. Bruce collapsed back against the car behind him as he desperately sought oxygen himself. Dick was alive.

An oxygen mask was placed over his face and as Bruce breathed deeply, unconsciousness took him without his consent. The last thing he heard was Alfred's voice. "Relax, my boy. You saved him."

VV

When Bruce awoke forty minutes later, Alfred was hovering over him.

"Dick?" Wayne demanded, removing the oxygen mask.

"No, leave it," Alfred insisted, trying to put it back in place. Bruce brushed it aside. "Dick?" He turned his head and spotted Grayson on a stretcher beside him. "Is he...?"

"Amazing me," Leslie stated, turning and smiling. "Why that surprises me, I don't know." The media frenzy had prompted her to shift her patients into the back of an ambulance and away from prying eyes.

Outside, the fire was under control. The Wayne Wing was smouldering in ruins, but the rest of the hospital had been saved and more than 80 of the patients were back in their beds. Leslie had refrained from shifting Dick and Bruce into the main part of the hospital. Barbara pointed out that they couldn't be sure if there was still an assassin out there. Right now, hidden in an ambulance was the safest place for them to be.

Grayson coughed and Barbara, who was seated on the floor of the vehicle holding his hand, bent down and spoke softly to him.

Bruce sat with Alfred's help. "Sir, you should remain still."

Bruce shifted across to Dick. Leslie and Barbara parted to allow him access. Dick's eyes were closed and the oxygen mask covered most of his face, but the black ash had been cleaned away to reveal pale and unburned skin.

"He's doing okay, Bruce. His lung appears to be holding its own. He's suffering a little smoke inhalation, but otherwise..." Dick started coughing again. "Lift him up," Leslie ordered. "It'll help him to breathe."

Bruce eased the young man upright. "Easy, chum. Easy." Wayne grimaced with each cough and wheezing breath Dick took. There was so much pain etched into his young features as the cut and torn muscles in his chest were forced into use. "Breathe slowly."

After a few moments, Dick's coughing abated and he focused his bloodshot eyes on his rescuer. "Bruce?" His voice was stronger than Wayne expected.

"Don't speak, yet" Leslie ordered. "Just concentrate on breathing steadily." Noting that Bruce was still wheezing a little himself, she ordered, "Bruce put your mask back on."

The pain around Dick's eyes eased a little. "What happened to your head?" he asked, curiously.

Bruce reached up and felt the bandage. "The ceiling caved in on us."

"Is that a metaphor?" Dick smirked.

Relief overwhelmed Bruce. Dick was alright. Better than just alright. The last time Bruce had seen him, Dick had been laying in a bed, so weak that he was barely able to speak. Wayne shut his eyes and drew his son into his chest as Alfred draped a blanket around them. The butler crouched beside his boys and wrapped them both in a hug. "Thank, God."

"Ohhh, man. It's a Kodak moment," Dick chuckled. Both Bruce and Alfred exploded with unrestrained laughter.

Leslie winked at Barbara. "Men!" Alright, Alfred. Out of the way. And Bruce, you can put him down now. I need to..." She was interrupted when the back of the ambulance was wrenched open to reveal a frantic Tim.

"There you are!" he cried. "I've been looking everywhere. No one knew if..." he swallowed and smiled. Bruce was holding Dick again. "Well, it looks like everything's fine here."

As Alfred stepped back, Bruce's eyes moved past Tim, zeroing in on one face amongst the curious onlookers and press being held back some fifty feet away.

"What?" Tim asked.

Wayne's body stiffened. REDLAND! The bomber had returned to see if he had fulfilled his contract. Rage rippled through each and every muscle in Bruce's body. That man had almost taken Dick from him.

_Batman _started to rise. Dick moaned involuntarily as his chest was jostled by Bruce's movement. This brought on coughing. Bruce froze. He had a choice. Apprehend Redland and throttle the shit out of him, or hold Dick? Redland or Dick? There was no choice to make.

Bruce dropped his eyes to his son and eased him closer. He would not let go... he'd never allow distance between them again. "Easy, Chum. Just relax."

"Bruce?" Tim asked, peering back over his shoulder along the line of his mentor's earlier gaze. He knew Bruce had seen something.

"Redland," Bruce growled, inclining his head. Tim's and the assassin's eyes made contact.

Drake's face grew harsh and he snarled, "He's mine."

Realizing he had been spotted, Redland attempted to make a run for it, but he didn't get far. Tim weaved his way through the crowd and took bomber down in a flying tackle. It took six people to pull the teenager off the man who had endangered the lives of those he loved. Tim shoved Redland toward some uniformed police shouting, "Here's your bomber!"

VV

An hour later, Dick was resting in a hospital bed. Alfred had spoken to the press and promised that if they gave the family some privacy, Bruce would provide them with daily statements. He'd added that failure to do so would bring out the full legal force of Wayne Enterprises which would be most unpleasant.

Leslie placed a stethoscope on Dick's bandaged chest.

"My lung seems to be holding its own," Dick offered, echoing Leslie's earlier diagnosis with a smirk. Despite the trauma he'd been through, he was surprisingly robust and the lines of pain around his eyes had faded as the painkillers took effect.

"I suppose you think you're funny," Leslie muttered, but her eyes sparkled destroying her apparent annoyance. She winked at him and he nodded.

Dick sighed and rolled his head across to the man who had not left his side since dragging him from the burning building. Bruce had saved his life... again. Wayne smiled down at him. "Thanks," Dick whispered.

Bruce simply squeezed his hand. Dick felt close to Bruce... closer at that moment than he could remember for a long time.

"Bruce."

"Mmm?"

Grayson flicked his eyes to Alfred and then dropped his voice. "Do you reckon we could keep what happened in fire between us?"

"Why?" Bruce asked curiously, instinctively lowering his own voice to match Dick's.

Grayson's brilliant blue eyes lit with mischief. "Because Attila the Butler told me he'd horse whip me if I left the bed. Do me a favour and tell him you found me in the bed, not on the floor."

Bruce smiled and ran his hand through Dick's hair. "Deal."

Dick winked at Alfred who was beaming back at the cheeky grin he'd feared he'd never see again.

Leslie removed the stethoscope. "It's sounding good." She knew Dick was in some pain. Following the explosions, he'd dragged himself out of the bed and then coughed for an hour – giving his chest muscles a work out they weren't yet ready for, but she had increased the pain killers he was taking intravenously. All in all, Dick had come through the ordeal unscathed.

Dick turned back to Bruce and his face became serious. "You got him." It was a statement, not a question.

Wayne nodded. Two Face was back behind bars and the two assassins he'd hired had been dealt with. "It's all over, Dick. It's finished. All we have to do is focus on getting you back on your feet."

"I'll be tap dancing in no time," Grayson chuckled, his eyes blinking steadily as sleep took him.

"I'll hold you to that," Bruce whispered.

VVVVVVVVVV

_**Pine Village, Havico - The present**_

**Bruce had been wrong, however. It wasn't over. There was a lingering legacy that he just couldn't put to rest. Dick's physical recovery had been swifter than Leslie had anticipated, though he still had a long way to go. Unfortunately, Dick was speaking of a return to Bludhaven after the weekend. **

**As far as Bruce was concerned, the young man simply wasn't ready. Dick needed more rest and more time to build up his strength. Another few weeks at the Manor with Alfred to look after him was what he required. The purpose of this weekend was to remove Dick from the immediacy of his life and when the moment was right, talk to him calmly about his future. **

**Through the fog, light dawned. "That's why he reacted," Bruce muttered. It hadn't been the money. It had been the offer to work in the business. It had just slipped out. It was his intention to guide Dick toward that decision, but... Bruce shook his head. He was messing it up. At every turn, he was digging a deeper hole for himself and unwittingly pushing his boy away. He'd planned it out so carefully. Adopt Dick. Take him away for the weekend to an island that was itself another world so that he could think clearly and without emotion. And then, choose his words carefully, and help Dick to understand that he needed to move forward and start his life anew. **

**Was he just being selfish in wanting Dick to remain at the Manor permanently? No, Bruce decided, glancing out the window that revealed the world of white beyond. Snow was beginning to fall, he noted. He became memorized by the way it 'swarmed' in the air, accosting all those braving the weather. Bruce found himself hoping Dick was wearing a warmer coat out in that.**

**Wayne sighed and looked down on the pen, staring at it so hard that it blurred in and out of focus for a couple of moments. He remembered the pride Dick had shown when giving it to him. He'd actually saved his pocket money. Alfred had offered to 'finance' any gift of his choice, but the ten year old had pointed out that 'then it wouldn't be from me.' Over the years, the gold had worn away and the pen had become scratched and scarred... somewhat like the pair's relationship. **

**Bruce's thoughts shifted again. For a single moment, he contemplated the fact that there was no pattern to his thinking, but that thought itself became lost amongst all of the others.**

**Dick. Once again, his boy became the focus of his attention. He'd had come so close to losing Dick that he wasn't prepared to face that again. Wanting Dick permanently back in his life wasn't wrong. However, that wasn't at the root of his very real misgivings regarding the young man's return to Bludhaven. Dick wanted to go back so he could resume his Nightwing duties as soon as possible. Bruce's heart twisted. Tragically, he didn't believe Dick would ever be able pull on a mask again given his recent medical anomalies. The risk was simply too great… both for Dick and anyone who was depending on him. **

**Bruce had tried to make the young man see sense, but without success -- hence this trip. Haunting memories arose again and dragged Bruce back in time...**

**VV**

**Continued in part 7 **

Please leave your email address if you leave a review so I can take the opportunity to thank you.

* * *

**I would really love to know what you thought.**

**© January 2006 Aussie Nightwriter. : This relates only to the creative property in this story. The distinctive way the story unfolds, the specific dialogue and unique situations are mine. I acknowledge that some of the characters and settings belong to DC comics. (g) No infrigement of copyright was intended and no profit has been made from this story... so, please don't sue me. It wouldn't be worth your while.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A Father's Day to Remember**  
A Sequel to "Lake of Lost Souls"

by AUSSIE NIGHTWRITER

**_DISCLAIMER_: I do not own any of the characters. Nightwing and all of his friends belongs to DC comics. I'd be a happy woman if Dick belonged to me...but no such luck. I have not made any profit out of writing this, so please don't sue me. It would not be worth your while. **

**_Author Comment_:  
# I know I have been away for a long time and I'm afraid I'm a bit rusty.  
# HUGE THANK YOU TO EM for betaing for me.  
# This is the promised sequel to the story "Lake of Lost Souls." Sorry it has taken so long.  
# I have no medical knowledge so there a bound to be inaccuracies in this story. I invite you to enjoy it for what it is... and rumble about a couple of drop dead gorgeous guys. (G) **

**_Special Thanks_: Thank you to all those people who have left such wonderful feedback on my previous stories. **

* * *

**A Father's Day to Remember**

Sequel to "Lake of Lost Souls"

**Part Seven **

_Wayne Manor-- 6 weeks 2 days earlier_

"We need to talk." Bruce tried to make it sound flippant, but Dick's smile faded instantly and Wayne knew his attempt had failed.

Grayson eyed his former guardian and began to finger the sheets that covered up to his waist. He recognized that look. Bat logic was about to follow. "About what?"

Bruce moved around the bed and sat down on the edge. Dick drew back against the pillow. The chasm opened between them even before Bruce could begin.

Alfred, who was standing on the other side of the room, cleared his throat. "I will go and prepare some supper. Was there anything in particular you wanted this evening, Master Bruce?" Alfred grabbed Bruce's attention with an intense gaze as he adjusted the pillow behind Dick's back. It was a caution. Dick had only been out of hospital two weeks. He didn't need any aggravation.

"No," Bruce murmured, his eyebrows drawing down as he read the hidden message.

"Very good, Sir." Alfred held Bruce for a further few seconds and then turned and left the bedroom.

Dick waited. Bruce turned back to him. Grayson was looking much stronger than he had when he'd first left hospital. His face was no longer drawn, and while still a little pasty, there were signs of colour in his cheeks. However, Dick's movements were very restricted and trips to the bathroom required assistance. It was his weakness that was the greatest annoyance to the young man himself, for as Leslie had predicted, he wasn't bouncing back quite as quickly as he had in the past. He'd been through so much this time.

"What's on your mind?"

Wayne frowned. He didn't know how to go about this. Dick had been so chipper from the moment he'd regained consciousness. He was spending his every waking moment trying to assist his family through what had happened, but Bruce feared he wasn't focusing enough on himself.

"You're not facing what happened."

"Huh?" It wasn't what Dick had been expecting and the statement took him by surprise. "What do you mean?"

Bruce laid his hand on Dick's arm. "You almost died."

"Thanks for newsflash," Dick smirked.

Bruce squeezed his arm. "I'm serious. You haven't made any attempt to deal with any of this. You need to."

Grayson's Adam's apple jumped and his jaw tightened ever so slightly. "Bruce, I don't have anything to deal with. I'm alive. Besides, I've never been afraid of dying."

"I know. And that has always been a problem."

"ALWAYS been a PROBLEM! What the hell is that supposed to mean!" Grayson's voice rose to one decibel below yelling.

Bruce struggled to keep his voice even. The irrational reaction was exactly what he'd been expecting. Dick had been bottling everything up since the shooting. "You've always been reckless because you don't fear dying."

"Wait a minute. Are you trying to say you think I have a death wish or that I won't speak about my emotions? Because if you are, that's rich comin' from you!" Dick's arm slid out from under Bruce's hand, and he crossed his arms over his chest. The subject was closed.

"I didn't say you had a death wish," Bruce ground out. His head started pounding. He needed to stay calm, but he'd never been good at that in situations like this. He and Dick always ended up in a shouting match. "All I'm saying is that you don't think before you do things."

"I don't think? Man, you are something, you know that, Bruce? Me jumping in front of a sniper to save your life. That's what this is about, isn't it?"

Bruce rose to his feet. "No... yes. No." Wayne threw his arms up in exasperation. This wasn't going well. He took a deep breath and released it slowly. He needed to get back on the topic, which was getting Dick to face what had happened. Wayne eyed his boy, who was staring back at him with so much annoyance, and his expression softened. "I want you to know, that I know how you're feeling."

The anger drained from Dick's pale face, revealing a vulnerability that made the older man uncomfortable. Grayson's arms unfolded and slid back down onto the bed. In a hushed voice, raw with emotion, Dick whispered, "No, you don't know what I'm feeling."

Bruce lowered his own voice. "I've been where you are -- angry... scared... uncertain if everything you are will be forever out of your grasp." He was hitting a chord. He could tell by Dick's non-verbal responses. The problem was, Dick didn't appear to be consciously aware of what he was responding to. Confusion and surprise crossed his features as emotions he couldn't control and didn't understand began to bubble and boil deep down inside him.

Bruce recognized what was happening for he had lived it, but he'd never spoken about his own experience.

Wayne turned away from Dick and walked toward the window. For a long time he stood, gazing out over the Manor grounds. "When Bane broke my back, I..." His voice trailed off and he lowered his head. Putting the emotional part of it into words was impossible. He could discuss the physical side, but not how it had effected him emotionally.

"Bruce?"

Wayne lifted his face and turned back to Dick. "You feel like you're drowning and there's nothing to hold on to, because everything's gone."

"Alfred and I wanted to be there for you, Bruce. You didn't let us."

Wayne nodded. "I know. I made some questionable decisions. Stupid decisions on a number of levels," Bruce chastised himself. "I couldn't face things myself and I didn't want to... I don't know. As for the other part of it, I didn't ask you to take over because I didn't feel I had the right to interfere in your life."

Dick's eyes blazed as a well of past feelings consumed him.

"I was wrong, but we've moved past that… haven't we?" Bruce asked, his voice echoing his longing that it was so.

Dick nodded and the rage left him as quickly as it had formed. "Yes."

"Good. Damn. I don't know how I got onto that. All I'm trying to say is that I know what you're feeling. Coming so close to losing your life makes you realize how insignificant you are in the larger scheme of things. And you can't see what's ahead because you may never be able to be what you were."

Dick looked puzzled. "Bruce, I haven't broken my back. In a month's time, everything WILL be back to the way it was. Leslie's really pleased with my progress. The muscles in my chest are re-knitting. My lung is just fine. Physio is going well."

Bruce stared at Dick for several moments before speaking. "Dick, it isn't going to be that easy. You've had seven seizures. If we don't find a cause, you won't be able to resume you Nightwing activities nor return to the Bludhaven police force."

Dick shook his head, his face relaxing a little. "Bruce, the seizures have stopped. I haven't had one in over a week."

"It's been eight days." Eight days, fourteen hours, thirty-two minutes. "Unless we can find a definitive reason for them and then eliminate the cause, I can't allow..."

"YOU CAN'T ALLOW!" Grayson's eyes fired with fury and then his voice dropped to little more than air forced out through his tightly clenched jaw. "You can't allow? Is that what you said?"

"Dick..."

"No. Bruce, I'm not a child. I don't actually need your permission to do anything."

"For God's sake, this isn't an argument!" Wayne roared, his self-control deserting him. "If you have a seizure out there when you're on your own, or at a time when someone else is depending on you, what..."

"Ohhh, so that's what this is about? Don't worry, Bruce. I work pretty exclusively on my own in Bludhaven. I'm not asking you to work with me if you don't feel you can depend on me." His hurt echoed between each incensed word.

Bruce's eyes grew wide. "I'M NOT SAYING THAT! I don't want to see you out there on your own without someone to watch your back!"

"I've been watching it myself since you threw me out when I was sixteen. Remember!" Both men froze. The resounding words echoed off the walls. Alfred came rushing into the room. Dick's eyes clouded. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I just..." He shut his eyes and shook his head in frustration. What the hell was happening? Where had that come from?

"That's enough," Alfred ordered, striding across to Dick and placing his hand on his brow. "He's warm. This is too much for him." The elderly man turned to Bruce and the words 'with a face like thunder' became reality.

"I'm alright, Alfred."

"No, you're not. Not yet. You will be with rest and rest is what you are going to get."

Dick reached up and stilled Alfred's fussing hands. "Can you give us a minute?" Alfred frowned. "Please."

Pennyworth nodded, though it was obvious he wasn't happy. He shot Bruce a warning glare and then left the room.

Bruce stood only a few feet across the room but felt like he was a world away from Dick. "I did what I felt I had to," he ground out.

"And you know what, Bruce? In time, I'd started to accept that. You didn't want to be working with a child. I could live with _that_." The accusation hung between them.

"Dick... Jason was... I made a mistake, alright! Is that what you need to hear! I have to live with that error of judgement and with that boy's blood on my hands every day. It was MY fault. I tried to go backwards at a time when I knew I needed to change things. I was wrong. I should have been looking forward. Dick, learn from my mistake. You need to go forward now, not backwards."

Dick wasn't sure how to deal with Bruce or with the plethora of emotions accosting him from within. "I'm not going backwards, Bruce," Grayson assured. "The seizures have stopped."

"We don't know that."

"I do. I will be returning to Bludhaven as soon as I can."

"I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO BURY YOU!"

Dick was a taken back by the volume and by the unstrained horror on his former guardian's face. "I'm not the one who isn't facing my mortality," Dick pointed out. "You're the one who can't accept that I'm human or that that what we do has associated risks."

"RISKS! We do what we do only after eliminating and controlling risks to ourselves and innocent bystanders." The side of Bruce that was Batman was now in control.

"Bat logic at its best," Dick muttered. "Bruce, a month ago, a guy fired a bazooka at me! How do you control that? You can't. I know you want to think you can control the outcome of everything, but you are only human and so am I."

The veins in Bruce's neck had popped out. Dick raised his hand for calm. He didn't know how they had got to a point that they were arguing like this, but he knew Bruce wanted some answers... though, Dick was now unclear what the questions were. What he did know was that being who he was, despite the risks, was all he could be.

"Look... how do I explain this?" Dick searched for a bridge between them -- something Bruce would understand. "It's what we do. It's who we are." He could see that he wasn't reaching his former guardian. "Bruce, I was born an acrobat. And I'll die an acrobat. Nothing will ever change that. My parents taught me how to use my God given gifts to entertain. You honed those skills and taught me how to make a difference. A real difference in the lives of other people. 'To fight together against crime and corruption and to never swerve from the path of righteousness.'"

Bruce's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak, but no words were forthcoming.

"That was the pledge. I meant it."

"You were nine years old when you made that oath." Bruce's voice was soft and dreadfully distorted.

"Exactly. It's become my life, Bruce. Not because I let it, but because it is the path I selected." As he said the words, Dick's stomach dropped. Suddenly, he felt lost. His mind touched on the fears he had been suppressing. He was well aware of the fact that the seizures would change everything if they continued. "It's who I am. I can't just turn that off."

Bruce gazed at Dick and realized that he was looking directly into his son's soul. "I know," he whispered. That had been what he'd been trying to say. He knew where Dick was. He'd been there. Dick was moving from confusion into denial. Anger would follow. However, right now, Dick wasn't ready to face any of it. He had paled considerably in the last few minutes. Alfred had been right... as usual. It was too early. Dick needed assurances at this stage. When he was stronger, there would be time to guide him through the right decisions.

"Using those skills mean..." Dick's voice cracked with emotion. "It's who I am," he repeated. "If I don't have that... to make a difference is..."

"You are making a difference. Bludhaven's in chaos."

"What?" Dick asked. The vulnerability disappeared in that single word, replaced by a look of concern and determination -- replaced by Nightwing. Bruce snorted inwardly. 'He's more like me than he knows.'

"Word's spread that Nightwing is gone and as a result the crime rate has more than doubled in the last few weeks." Dick rose off the pillow. "Relax," Bruce soothed, returning to the bed. "I sent Cassie."

Dick's face remained tense.

"Cassie's very capable," Bruce reminded him, adjusting the blankets.

"But Bludhaven isn't Gotham." Bruce's right eyebrow rose. "I'm not saying it's worse, it's just... different."

"In what way?" Bruce asked. They were talking again, but it was Batman and Nightwing, not Bruce and Dick.

"Gotham is..." Dick smirked. The streets of Gotham had been his backyard when he was growing up. "The bad element in Gotham is visible. In Bludhaven, everything is hidden and sinister."

Dick reached for the phone, but balked as his chest muscles pinched. Bruce picked up the phone and handed it to him. "Who are you calling?"

"Roy."

"Harper? Why?"

Dick punched in the number and waited. "Roy, it's Dick." Immediately, the other man started talking, his verbal diarrhoea preventing Dick from getting a word in. "... that's great... Roy... yeah, listen, Roy... Uh-huh... Did she?... Roy, I need... Sounds great... uh-huh... uh-huh..."

Bruce laced his arms across his chest and shook his head. Roy Harper had the attention span of a gnat.

"Well, I don't blame her...uh-huh... ROY! Will you shut-up a minute and let me talk?... Yeah, I'm doing okay, but I need a favour." Dick grinned. "No, I don't need you to kill someone for me... No, I haven't got a woman in trouble..." Whatever Roy said next caused Dick to burst out laughing, the young man clutching at his tender chest. All tension had left Dick's face. Bruce's eyes narrowed. "Bowhead, will you let me speak? Bludhaven... yeah. Thanks," Dick stated sincerely. He'd known that Roy would drop everything for him. "Batgirl's already there. Oh, and Roy, don't try to hit on her or you may end up with those bits of your anatomy that you value most, painfully removed." Roy's response left Dick laughing again.

Bruce swallowed. Dick was so at ease with Harper... with all of the original Titans. Why? Wayne's chest grew heavy. Every time he tried to achieve that comfort level with Dick, something got in the way. What was it that they had or did, that he didn't?

Continued in part 8

Please leave your email address if you leave a review so I can take the opportunity to thank you.

* * *

I would really love to know what you thought.

**© January 2006 Aussie Nightwriter. : This relates only to the creative property in this story. The distinctive way the story unfolds, the specific dialogue and unique situations are mine. I acknowledge that some of the characters and settings belong to DC comics. (g) No infrigement of copyright was intended and no profit has been made from this story... so, please don't sue me. It wouldn't be worth your while.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A Father's Day to Remember  
**A Sequel to "Lake of Lost Souls"

by AUSSIE NIGHTWRITER

**_DISCLAIMER_: I do not own any of the characters. Nightwing and all of his friends belongs to DC comics. I'd be a happy woman if Dick belonged to me...but no such luck. I have not made any profit out of writing this, so please don't sue me. It would not be worth your while. **

**_Author Comment_:  
# I know I have been away for a long time and I'm afraid I'm a bit rusty.  
# HUGE THANK YOU TO EM for betaing for me.  
# This is the promised sequel to the story "Lake of Lost Souls." Sorry it has taken so long.  
# I have no medical knowledge so there a bound to be inaccuracies in this story. I invite you to enjoy it for what it is... and rumble about a couple of drop dead gorgeous guys. (G) **

**# I just ignore flames so please don't bother to post them.**

**_Special Thanks_: Thank you to all those people who have left such wonderful feedback on my previous stories. **

* * *

**A Father's Day to Remember**

Sequel to "Lake of Lost Souls"

**Part Eight **

**Grayson put the phone down, still smiling. When he looked up at Bruce, he noted the intense stare. It was more than that though. There was great regret and hurt in Bruce's face.**

**"What?"**

"**Nothing."**

**Dick waited. "Bruce?"**

**"You seem so... it doesn't matter," Bruce finished quickly, turning away and heading for the door.**

**"So relaxed with others?" Dick asked. He could read Bruce. He'd always been able to. Wayne stopped just in the doorway. Dick ran his hand through his hair. "Ohhh, Bruce." He blinked in an effort to clear his head. This was something he'd tried to discuss with his former guardian so many times, but he'd never been able to make Bruce understand. "Come and sit down."**

**Bruce started toward the door again. "Bruce. Come and sit down," Dick repeated firmly.**

**Wayne turned, but remained where he was. **

**"I... Look ..." Dick stumbled. Where did he start?**

**"I don't know what I'm doing wrong," Bruce whispered with more emotion than Dick felt comfortable with.**

**Dick licked his lips. "You aren't ever yourself."**

**Bruce continued to stare at Dick.**

**Grayson drew in a deep breath and racked his brain for the right words... some way to explain. "Do you remember that Maharaja who came to Gotham and you had to spend a week entertaining his daughter?" **

**Bruce eyed Dick curiously. "Yes."**

"**She was the ugliest woman I'd ever seen." **

**Bruce shrugged. "She had a face like a horse."**

"**And she kept spouting off her opinions and great ideas and you agreed with them because that's what everyone expected of Bruce Wayne. It was important for Gotham to gain the Maharaja's business. It meant millions of dollars to the city and so you stood there and agreed with what that woman was saying. You even said to Lucius Fox when the three of us were alone, that you felt she was one of the most forward thinking people you'd ever met."**

"**The stupid cow didn't have a brain in her head," Bruce muttered.**

**"That's it," Dick whispered. "That's what you need to do."**

**"Huh," Bruce asked, puzzled. "Do what?"**

**"React without first running it through a series of filters. Bruce it's me. You spend so much of your life pretending to be something you're not and then restraining yourself so you can be what Gotham needs, that you forget that in front of me, you don't _need _to be anything. Just be you. The real you. The you that can admit to me that you thought she was an idiot, even though you told everyone else you thought she was the greatest thing since sliced bread. I knew what you were really thinking. You don't need to filter your reactions in front of me." **

**Bruce frowned. "I don't..."**

"**I can't relate to the socialite -- I never did. That's nothing more than an act and is so far from who you really are. I can accept and work with Batman. I respect what you've done. Hell, in my own way, I've carved my own path based on that. But that's work. That's when we pull on the suits. That's not... this is just us. Me spending time with _you. _Me having a conversation with _you_ -- not the brainless socialite who protects Batman's identity and not Batman who needs to keep his emotions in check so he can do the job. I'm talking about you. The you that lives in the shadows behind the personas you've created. Sometimes, I really think you've forgotten who that person is -- I haven't." Dick's voice had become emotional. "I know that it's hard for you to separate everything out because Batman, and I guess the 'socialite' too, are still a part of who you are and who you have to be, but there's another part to you, Bruce. A part that gradually disappeared a long time ago." **

**Bruce's eyes narrowed and he nodded thoughtfully. He was beginning to understand what Dick was saying. "I'll try."**

**"Don't try, Bruce. Just be who you are around me and Alfred... and Tim... and Babs... okay, too many." Dick grinned. "Start with me."**

**They stared at each other and Bruce's head bobbed once. "I think I can handle that. I promise, I'll try."**

"**Good," Dick mumbled and then he winked at Bruce. "Because I only make one speech each decade and that was it."**

_VVVVVVVVVV_

_Pine Village, Havico - The present_

Dick had been right. Bruce had come to realize that he 'played' the socialite and 'became' Batman. They were roles he had invented, but the time he spent playing each had increased to the point that he was actually playing one or the other all of the time. However, in the past six weeks he'd consciously pushed them aside and in doing so, he'd re-established his relationship with the person who was both his best friend and son.

It wasn't easy and was taking time because Bruce had learned the parts so well that he tended to act them out without thought. Everything Dick had said was right on the mark. It was a startling revelation. Bruce had never realized that every response he made or refrained from making so he didn't give anything away, was gauged so that it fit the 'character' he was playing at the time. At what point had he had submerged his own personality behind the two he had created to the extent that who he was had almost disappeared?

He knew the answer to that. It had been the night the Joker had shot Dick. That night, everything in his life had changed... for the worse.

Now, he was determined to find a balance... to only play the role when the role was required. Dick had been helping by saying things like, 'that's the cowl talking', or, 'is that what you think or what the socialite thinks?' Every time Dick picked him up on something, he was correct. When Bruce stopped to actually think about it, often the response he'd given was according to one of the 'characters' and not true what he was actually thinking or feeling.

When he was 'just being himself', he and Dick were comfortable with each other. They actually enjoyed spending time together... "Until I put my foot in it," Bruce grumbled. It was time for Dick to face his uncertain future, but Bruce had unwittingly dumped it on him like a tonne of bricks.

"Mr. Wayne? I'm sorry. Put your foot in it?" Bruce looked at MacIntosh who had him by the elbow, guiding him into the conference room. He'd been so distracted that he'd... simply followed the other man when he'd reappeared?

"Mr. Wayne?"

"I'm sorry," Bruce apologised, struggling to push all other thoughts aside. "I'm afraid I've been preoccupied all morning." His voice sounded slow and slurred in his own ears. For the first time, Bruce actually looked at MacIntosh. He was young. The man Bruce had spoken to on the phone had sounded older.

The man claiming to be MacIntosh, closed the door behind him and laid a document on the table in front of Bruce. "I see you have your pen ready, Mr. Wayne."

All of the sudden, Bruce felt it. He'd been drugged. His mind had been wandering since he and MacIntosh had exchanged a handshake on the street. Wayne raised the palm of his hand and noted the faint discolouration. Why hadn't he realized? He'd been so preoccupied with thoughts of Dick and helping the boy get through this tough time, that the warning signs had slipped passed him unnoticed... the headache... the inability to focus his thoughts... the blurred vision! The drug had amplified his anxiety and enhanced the swirling memories -- creating drug induced hallucinations -- completely clouding his mind and judgement.

Wayne's face shadowed. He'd been sitting out there in the tavern like a fool, giving the drug time to take effect!

MacIntosh smiled with satisfaction. "Relax, Mr. Wayne." Three well-built men appeared from behind a screen. "In a few moments, you won't be feeling anything."

Bruce's fogged mind immediately began to process the situation. He wasn't Batman and so his response needed to fit within the 'confines' of his Bruce's Wayne persona -- nothing was important than protecting his secret.

But, if they took him, Dick may be their next target and Dick wasn't in any condition to protect himself.

Batman attacked.

He sent one man flying and spun toward another, but his punch was uncoordinated and slid off harmlessly. A needle was stabbed into his arm. Bruce roared and grabbed at the fingers plunging the drug into him. The room began to move. The floor became spongy under his feet. He righted himself and swung again, even as his legs were collapsing beneath him.

Dick stepped out of the shop into a blast of cold air. Snow was falling lightly, but was being tossed around by the wind. Dick zipped up his new coat and set off for the Deer Head Tavern.

Pine Village was alive with activity but few took any notice of the young man in the brightly coloured parka. Once again, Dick was heading away from the tourist strip and into the area that was clearly for locals alone. He would need to apologize for jumping down Bruce's throat, but that was only for the money part of it. He and Bruce needed to _discuss _the notion of him working in the business. On one hand, he could understand Bruce's desire for him to do so. As a matter of fact, it had always been what Bruce had wanted -- to pass on his legacy. Dick was grateful... no, not grateful. Grateful was the wrong word. He loved Bruce for it. It was the only way Bruce could show him how much he cared. And Bruce did care. More than he'd probably ever meant to or even wanted to. The big dumb lug just didn't know any other way to show it than to make Dick his heir.

Grayson's brow furrowed. And then, completely out of the blue, Bruce had asked if he could adopt him. It had been a huge step for Bruce... and for Dick too, he realized. It was an idea that used to roll around in his mind when he was young. He had long since dismissed it. After all, he and Bruce had been family in everything but name for years, but to actually make it official had forced both to examine their feelings... and Dick's were something of a mess.

It wasn't just the adoption, though. There were so many other factors. He'd thought that almost dying hadn't affected him... he'd almost died so many times! However, this time, it had been different. This time, he _had _died. Dr. Anderson insisted that Dick's 'brain failure' had to have been a machine malfunction and thus Dick's brain hadn't actually stopped. Grayson believed differently. He couldn't remember exactly what had happened in those moments he was 'gone', but he did know that he'd decided to live, and that his connection with Bruce had enabled him to come back from where ever he'd been headed. It went against everything he knew and believed to be medically possible... once a person's brain activity stopped that was it... but some things a person just had to take on faith. This was one of them. All of which meant, Dick needed to sort through the whats and whys of his existence.

There was also the complex nature of his relationship with the other members of his unusual family. Alfred was easy. Alfred was his rock. He and the old man had no difficulty expressing their feelings toward one another. Alfred still had a way of making him feel like he was a kid. A look. A phrase. A subtle shake of the head. Dick sighed. If it hadn't been for Alfred... Dick didn't like to think.

Then there was Tim...

_Wayne Manor-- 6 weeks 1 day earlier_

"**I've got tickets to that ballgame we were talking about, but it's only three weeks away," Tim stated as he rolled the dice. He was seated on the chair next to Dick's bed, the pair playing Monopoly. Dick had been starting to get restless and so Alfred had asked the teenager to 'help fill in Dick's day'.**

"**No problem. Three weeks from now I'll be out of this bed and back in tights." Grayson bounced his eyebrows.**

**Tim eyed his friend carefully. "Are you sure? I mean... hell, Dick. You..." Tim paused as Grayson's relaxed expression disappeared. "Alfred said he thought it could be another couple of months," the boy stated, quickly. Blame Alfred. That was always a safe option.**

"**Oh," and the fine disgruntled creases around Dick's eyes disappeared. "You know Al. He just likes to worry."**

"**Yeah, but you need to take things slowly. Don't go back before you're ready," Tim cautioned.**

**Dick winked at the teenager. He wasn't sure when he had started to feel so close to the boy. It may sound cliché, but Tim was the brother Dick had always longed to have. Wally, Roy and Garth had filled that gap for him for years and in many ways, still did, but Tim was... different. They shared so much in common. Dick's mind flicked to Jason. He'd liked the other boy, but they'd never been close. Perhaps there simply hadn't been the time.**

"**Oh, man! Is that the time? I'm dead. Dick, I've got to go," Tim shrieked, tossing his cards down. "You look tired, anyway." Then he grinned. "Besides, you've cleaned me out."**

**Dick dropped his cards down on the small tray he and Tim had been using for a table. "Everything okay?"**

"**Yeah. Dad has some clients coming over this evening and I promised to help him get things ready... clean up the mess. The apartment looks like a bomb hit it." The youth lifted the tray off Dick and placed it on the chair he'd just vacated. "Can I get you anything before I go?" **

"**No. And Tim, thanks for coming over." Dick's eyes fluttered a little as he fought against the sleep calling his name.**

"**Sure, any time." Tim stared at Dick for several moments and once again, chills ran up and down his spine. Grayson was still so weak. Tim had never seen him like that. He'd had experienced death many times in his young life, but Dick was so capable. Despite the dangers they faced every time they pulled on the masks, it hadn't actually occurred to the teenager that one of them could die. **

**Tim had found out a great deal about himself during the past few weeks. He'd wanted to pummel the bomber and wasn't sure he would have stopped if others hadn't intervened. Bruce had since reprimanded him. His actions had put not only his own identity at risk, but Batman's and Nightwing's as well. He'd revealed his skills in public and had knowledge of the bomber that had needed to be explained. Thankfully, Bruce had been able to cover the second by saying he'd seen the man lurking around and that when he'd spotted him again, he'd pointed him out to the teenager. It was mostly true.**

**The greatest thing to come out of the entire horrible business was a conscious awareness of how close he and Dick had become. **

**Dick eyed Tim's young face and he reached up and laid his hand on the boy's arm. Tim was transparent… at least, to Dick. "Hey, I'm gonna be okay. You and I'll be back to kicking ass together before you know it." **

"**Dick… I don't know what I would have done if…" he swallowed, his young face awash with emotion.**

"**You'd have had to put up with Batman's temper tantrums on your own," Dick chuckled, withdrawing his hand. "And do your own chemistry homework."**

**Dick always knew what to say to help alleviate the tension. Tim smiled and his love of his 'brother' settled comfortably in his heart. "I've got an exam coming up. If you're not busy…?" **

**Dick raised his left eyebrow and with a sweeping arm, indicated he was bed bound. **

"**Thanks. I'll be back tomorrow to avenge my losses."**

"**Dream on, kid."**

**Tim offered his hand. Dick slid his arm along Tim's in a full forearm grip that symbolized their brotherhood. **

VVVVVVVVVV

_Pine Village, Havico - The present_

Brothers. More than just brothers in arms these days. Dick felt satisfied that he grasped where he stood with Tim. He certainly hadn't been able to say the same about Barbara, until recently...

VV

Continued in part 9

Please leave your email address if you leave a review so I can take the opportunity to thank you.

* * *

I would really love to know what you thought.

**© January 2006 Aussie Nightwriter. : This relates only to the creative property in this story. The distinctive way the story unfolds, the specific dialogue and unique situations are mine. I acknowledge that some of the characters and settings belong to DC comics. (g) No infrigement of copyright was intended and no profit has been made from this story... so, please don't sue me. It wouldn't be worth your while.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A Father's Day to Remember  
**A Sequel to "Lake of Lost Souls"

by AUSSIE NIGHTWRITER

**_DISCLAIMER_: I do not own any of the characters. Nightwing and all of his friends belongs to DC comics. I'd be a happy woman if Dick belonged to me...but no such luck. I have not made any profit out of writing this, so please don't sue me. It would not be worth your while. **

**_Author Comment_:  
# # HUGE THANK YOU TO EM for betaing for me.  
# This is the promised sequel to the story "Lake of Lost Souls." Sorry it has taken so long.  
# I have no medical knowledge so there a bound to be inaccuracies in this story. I invite you to enjoy it for what it is... and rumble about a couple of drop dead gorgeous guys. (G) **

**_Special Thanks_: Thank you to all those people who have left such wonderful feedback on my previous stories. **

* * *

**A Father's Day to Remember**

Sequel to "Lake of Lost Souls"

**Part Nine **

_**Wayne Manor-- 5 weeks 3 days earlier**_

"**Hey, will you ease up, Barbara," Dick complained. The redhead folded her arms across her chest. Dick wriggled to get more comfortable in bed. He'd been sitting up in the one spot for the last hour. "Bruce is just... you know what he's like."**

"**He's obsessed and that obsession almost got you killed," she insisted, stabbing a finger at him.**

"**Whooow," Dick disagreed, raising his hand. "No, it didn't. I did that all on my own. I made the decision to leap up onto that stage. I knew what was going to happen."**

"**Then why did you do it!" Her response held so much force that her wheelchair jerked.**

**Dick blinked. "Did you expect me to just stand there and watch him get shot?" **

**Silence filled the room.**

"**No... I..." Barbara bit down on her bottom lip. "I'm sorry. I... I'm sorry. I don't really have a right to..."**

"**Right? Please. Now you're starting to sound like him," Dick snorted.**

**Tears welled in Barbara's eyes. She loved Dick. She hadn't realized she was _in_ love with him until that single moment at the hospital when she had known with certainty that he was dying. "I thought I was going to lose you," she choked out.**

**"By the sound of things, technically you did," Dick commented as he reached for the glass of water Alfred had left for him.**

**"Don't be flippant about this," Barbara snapped.**

**Dick withdrew his arm and studied her face as a tear teetered on her cheek before sliding off. "Hey, relax. I'm okay, pretty lady." He reached out to her and Barbara took his hand in both of hers. "You have to know by now that you aren't going to get rid of me that easily."**

"**Dick, please," she whispered. **

**He frowned. "What? Hey, Babs. Come one. I'm fine." He squeezed her hand and nodded once in assurance.**

**Barbara lifted one hand and wiped her eyes, but continued to grip his hand with the other. It was time to tell him. She'd practised and rehearsed this moment for the past six weeks. "Dick, I... " All the words were gone apart from the three she wanted so desperately to say. "I love you."**

"**Yeah, I know," he stated, easily, bouncing their hands twice. "You and me are like siblings."**

**Her face contorted. "Siblings?" she repeated, as if the word were something particularly unpleasant. **

"**We've grown up together. Outside of Alfred, I don't think anyone knows me as well you."**

**Barbara's lip began to tremble. "I don't want to be your sister. Dick, when I said I love you, I meant... I..."**

**He continued to gaze at her and his eyes widened a little as his handsome face creased with surprised understanding. "I'm _in _love with you too... have been since the day I hit puberty, but I didn't think... I think we should wait."**

**Barbara opened her mouth. **

**Dick shook his head. "Let me finish. Let's give ourselves some time. I don't want this to just be a temporary thing."**

"**Temporary?" she asked, confused.**

"**I don't want you to be influenced by what's just happened. We're all feeling a bit shell shocked at the moment. Let's take it slow until..."**

**Barbara leaned forward and placed her finger on his lips to silence him. "What just happened made me realize that all that I've been looking for I'd been taking for granted, Dick. I'm not in love with you because I almost lost you. I'm in love with you because... because I love you."**

"**Oh." He was genuinely surprised... happily taken aback.**

**She smiled at him. "So, do you still want to take things slow?"**

"**Hell, no." She leaned into him and their lips brushed.**

"**That's enough, you two."**

**The pair sprang apart like two teenagers caught by a parent.**

**Alfred strode into the room, shaking his greying head. "He doesn't have the strength for that."**

**Dick glanced at Barbara and mouthed, 'Wanna bet?' Barbara blushed beautifully.**

"**Miss Barbara, your father is downstairs ready to take you home."**

"**Thanks Alfred." She leaned forward and kissed Dick on the cheek. "I'll be back tomorrow morning."**

"**On the cheek? That's it?" Dick asked. He squeezed her hand again. **

**She beamed at him. "Love you."**

**Dick grinned and glanced at Alfred. "I'm seeing an older woman."**

**Barbara slapped him playfully. Her and Dick's eyes came together and they shared a look of passion that had Alfred turning away to give them some privacy. When he looked back, they were just pulling apart, Barbara red as beet and Dick's eyes sparkling. **

**Alfred clicked his tongue with amusement. "The first time I had to pull you two apart, you were fourteen, Master Dick and you, Miss Barbara, must have been..."**

"**A little older," Barbara jumped in.**

"**Quite so," Alfred agreed. "This time there is a difference, though. This time, I approve."**

"**Since when did we need your approval, Alfred?" Dick chuckled.**

**Alfred shot the young man an 'unimpressed' look which left Dick laughing.**

"**Tomorrow," Barbara said as she pulled her chair away from the bed and headed out the door. "I'll ring you tonight."**

"**I'll be waiting, pretty lady."**

"**I will be out in a moment to assist you down the stairs," Alfred called after her and then he turned back to Dick. **

"**She loves me, Al."**

**Alfred nodded, genuinely happy for Dick. "I don't believe there has ever been any doubt."**

**Dick leant back against the pillow and rubbed the back of his hand across his weary face. He got so tired so quickly. It was frustrating.**

"**I've just had another phone call and orders to 'check' on you." Dick rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. He's smothering you."**

"**He's treating me like I'm eight again," Dick complained, reaching for the glass of water and sipping from it. **

**"He wants to show you how much he loves you, but the only experience he has in showing any emotion to anyone, was that period of time when you were young and so he's drawing on that. Be patient with him," Alfred encouraged, taking the glass from Dick. **

"**Alfred, I'm not a kid any more." **

"**No, you aren't... despite how you often act." The pair exchanged a wry grin. "He has never known how to deal with the fact that you grew up. He was able to handle you becoming Nightwing because..."**

**"Because Nightwing is part of his team and he's the boss. He gets to make all of the decisions," Dick grumbled. **

**Alfred nodded. "He can't do that with an adult Dick Grayson."**

**"He's a control freak."**

**"Yes," Alfred agreed, love shinning from his face. "But he's _our _control freak."**

**Dick shook his head, but he was smiling too. "True. You know, I'd go crazy if it weren't for you, Al."**

**Alfred removed the second pillow from behind Dick and helped to ease him back down into the bed. "And I would be relatively sane, if it weren't for you," he whispered, sweeping Dick's hair of his forehead. "And now, it is time for you rest... and if I come back in here and find you are sneaking girlfriends into your room, I'll tan your hide."**

**Dick burst out laughing. **

"**She loves you, young man. You are very lucky indeed... and so is she."**

**VV**

_Pine Village, Havico - The present_

Just thinking about Barbara lifted Dick's heart. Barbara loved him... not as a brother, but as a lover. All of which left only his relationship with Bruce to sort out. That was far more complicated because it involved the adoption, Nightwing, Batman, Bruce… and more.

Dick didn't know where to start. Up until this point, he'd only been focusing on helping Bruce through all that had happened. The changes he'd seen in the other man were positive, but Dick knew he was avoiding thinking beyond that. He wanted to return to Bluhaven after this weekend, but there was so much uncertainty in his life at the moment... and yet, at the same time, everything felt right. He and Bruce were close again. He'd been making a difference in Bludhaven, as evidenced by the chaos that had broken out when he'd been injured. He and Tim were having fun and Barbara loved him.

Dick found himself more than tempted to stay at the Manor longer, for fear of upsetting the utopia he was enjoying. However, burying his head in the sand wasn't his style. He needed to start sorting out his emotions and getting his life back to normal -- well, as normal as his life had ever been. To do that, he needed to fly without his safety net and that meant a return to Bludhaven.

Dick shoved his freezing hands into his pockets. He and Bruce had forgotten to pack gloves. There were only two things Alfred had left for them to pack themselves - gloves and toothbrushes. Needless to say, buying toothbrushes was high on their list of priorities today.

As Dick continued down the street, he noted that the buildings were becoming less pristine. Ahead, he spotted a large worn sign that displayed the words, "Deer Head Tavern". Dick frowned. The roof looked as if it was about to collapse under the snow and the flaking brown paint and two boarded up windows weren't exactly inviting. Why would some high profile lawyer have suggested this place? Dick had a vague memory of Bruce receiving a message from MacIntosh's secretary changing the time and date of the meeting. The hair prickled on the back of the young man's neck. Something didn't feel right.

Grayson entered the Tavern, the door swinging closed behind him automatically. His body shuddered, reacting to the dramatic change in temperature. Dick unzipped his coat as he walked toward the bar. Those seated looked him up and down with interest.

"You've got the wrong end of town, kid. The tourist strip is the other end," the barkeep offered. "Visitors to the island don't come in here."

"I'm looking for someone. A stranger to these parts. About 6'2, dark hair, would have come in here about fifteen minutes ago."

The barkeep flicked his attention to two drinkers and all grinned. "Yeah, he was in here."

"Why so funny?" Dick asked, frowning.

"He was off his face. High on drugs by the look of it. Sat there talking real loud to himself."

"Not the person I'm looking for," Dick dismissed, turning and scanning the room. "The man I'm after was coming here to meet a lawyer. Were there any other strangers in here today?"

"Only the 'high' fella and the guy with him. I see everyone who comes in. This person you're looking for, was he wearing an orange parka?"

Dick turned and studied the other man carefully. "Yes."

The barkeep inclined his head to the table closest to the door. "He sat there for about ten minutes talking and twitching and then his friend came back, helped him up and they went down the hall."

Dick nodded his thanks and briskly set off in the direction indicated. His earlier curiosity had become confusion with the slightest prickling of concern. Grayson entered the dimly lit corridor and paused noting the doors lining it. Each was signed – kitchen, office, staff toilets. At the very end and on the left, the door was ajar. Dick jogged down to the room and looked inside. It was empty.

Grayson's heart rate increased. He wasn't worried yet, but he certainly had a number of questions. Had Bruce and the lawyer come here and then, deciding it didn't suit their purposes, gone else where? Why had Bruce been acting drunk or drugged?

As Dick turned to leave, something caught his eye. He squinted at the shiny object resting on the carpet under a chair. Immediately, Dick knew what it was. Crouching, he picked up the pen and his jaw tightened. The inscription… 'Happy Birthday, Bruce' glared back at him. _Now_, Dick was worried. There were only two reasons why the pen was on the floor – because Bruce had deliberately left it as a marker for Dick or because… "Damn."

Dick shoved the pen into his pocket and dashed out into the hall. Time was now a factor. He needed to find Bruce quickly. Whatever had happened, Bruce was leaving a trail for him.

Grayson looked right toward the bar, but knew the barkeep would have seen Bruce leave if he'd gone that way, so Dick turned to the fire exit and forced the heavy doors open. The exit opened onto an 'L' shaped parking area that snugly contoured to the shape of the dull brown building. Dick looked down. The fresh footprints in the snow told a very specific story -- five people, one being dragged.

A burning shot of adrenaline released into Dick's system. Bruce was in trouble. Whether that meant Bruce was just playing the part of a kidnapee, hoping Dick would find him so he didn't have to reveal who he was, or whether Bruce was really in trouble, wasn't relevant at this stage.

The trail of footprints extended out directly in front of the young man, clinging closely to the Tavern wall before disappearing around the side of the building.

The blare of the generator rang in Dick's ears, neutralizing that sense. His vision, too, was obscured by the falling snow, but Dick didn't have time to contemplate such things. He raced to the end of the building where the trail turned, and he peered around the corner. The scene that greeted him was the one he was half expecting. Three men were wrestling to get Bruce into the back of a large canvas-backed truck. One other was watching, impatiently. Bruce's attempts to free himself were more than feeble… they were real, not an act. The barkeep's words echoed in Dick's mind. 'High on drugs by the look of it.' The man's choice of words had been closer to the truth than Dick had realized.

Grayson sized up the situation. There were four of them and Bruce wasn't going to be any help. Normally, such odds wouldn't have been a problem, but Dick knew he wasn't as fit has he could be. No one would hear his cries for help and if he went to collect help…

"Let him go!" Dick shouted over the thundering of the generator as he stepped out from the cover of the building. Startled by his sudden appearance, Bruce's attackers spun toward him.

"Stay out of this," one shouted. "This isn't any of your business."

Dick advanced. "I said, let him go. Now!"

VV

"Dick?" Bruce murmured. He hadn't heard his partner. It was more a feeling. Wayne continued to order his arms to fight, but his limbs had become largely unresponsive and darkness kept encroaching at the edges of his vision. He had to free himself. He didn't want Dick to get caught up in this… whatever this was.

As one of his attackers released him, Bruce caught sight of Dick… advancing. His partner's words, strong and clear rose over the generator and echoed in the parking lot. "Release him and back away." Bruce stopped thrashing, his blurred vision on Dick. The ball was in his partner's court. Two of the thugs started toward Grayson.

Movement behind Dick caught Bruce's attention. "No!" he screamed.

Dick didn't hear the shout, but read the warning on Bruce's face and spun… too late. A snowmobile, masked by the sound of the generator, had rushed up behind him. Before Dick could respond, it smashed into him, the bone shattering impact sending him spinning into the air. Bruce tried to follow the arc of his partner's body, watching for the tell-tale signs of grace and control, but one of the thugs obscured his vision. Bruce tried to shove the man out of his way, but the drug surging though him stole his coordination. Wayne knew Dick's body hadn't been taut and controlled and as it normally would be. He knew his boy hadn't had time to react and had taken the full impact on his legs, abdomen and chest.

At the last moment, the thug moved and Bruce witnessed Dick's descent. Grayson didn't 'land'. Rather, he crumpled into a heap ten feet from the collision. "Dick!" but the word was lost in the drone of the tavern generator.

Wayne was dragged up into the back of the truck, still struggling. In his mind's eyes, he could see Dick falling… falling…

_**Wayne Manor-- 3 weeks 6 days earlier**_

**Bruce lunged up the last two steps, catching Dick as his legs buckled and he started falling backwards. **

"**What the hell are you doing?" Wayne roared as he tried to keep his own feet under himself on the stairs. Grayson slumped against him, and so Bruce lifted, cradling the frail young man in his arms. "You're pushing yourself too hard."**

"**No one asked you," Dick panted. Leslie had said that he could get out of bed for periods of ten minutes at a time and so Dick had planned out his own 'gentle exercise régime.' He needed to get back on his feet so he could return to Bludhaven.**

**Grayson had walked up and down the landing a dozen times, attempted two push ups and then had descended the long staircase with only minor discomfort. Unfortunately, by that time he was exhausted and ascending had drained the final ebbs of his energy. He'd gotten a third of the way back to the top before his legs had gone to water and he'd suddenly found himself falling. **

"**Put me down. I can do it," Dick insisted, trying to free himself from Bruce's strong grip. **

**Wayne started back up the stairs. "You're too weak yet. What the hell did you think you were doing attempting the stairs? If I hadn't come along we'd have found in a heap at the bottom. You could have broken every bone in your body and given Alfred a heart attack. Leslie said walking to the bathroom and back, not this!"**

"**Put me down, damn it." **

**Bruce ignored him and continued up the stairs, showing little evidence of the strain of carrying the other man. "Stop moving or I'll drop you."**

"**Bruce! I'm not asking. Put me down. I need to do it myself."**

"**Not yet."**

**"This isn't your decision. Let me down!" When it became clear that Bruce had no intention of listening, Dick became still. "Damn you, Bruce."**

**"More than likely," the older man chuckled. **

"**You think this is funny?" Dick snarled, once again trying to free himself. **

**Bruce sighed. "No," he whispered as he stopped. No, he didn't think it was funny. As a matter of fact, despite how child-like, futile and ridiculous Dick's struggle may appear to an observer, Bruce understood the frustration and Dick's need to prove to himself that he was on the mend. **

**Grayson had lost considerable weight in the past weeks and his muscle tone was gone. The pajamas, which had once fit him snugly, now hung on him like a sack. He had stopped taking the painkillers because they made him groggy… something Bruce had done in the same situation two years earlier. Dick's frustration at his lack of progress was something Bruce truly understood and he wasn't surprised that it had come to this. **

**Wayne lowered Dick's slipperless feet to the stairs. "All right." Carefully, he laid his son's hand on the banister, waiting until Dick's fingers circled around it. Only once he was certain that Dick was capable of holding his own weight, did he release him. The older man hovered close by, ready to catch his boy should he fall.**

**Dick glared at Bruce for several seconds and then, leaning heavily on the railing, he stepped up one stair. His single-minded objective pushed all else aside. His breathing immediately increased and his free hand clutched at his tender chest. **

**Bruce grimaced, but suppressed the urge to 'do something'.**

**Alfred appeared below, but Bruce held up his hand to silence him. Dick needed to do this… if for no other reasons then to learn that he wasn't yet ready for such stunts. **

**Grayson paused for a moment and then took another step. Perspiration beaded on his forehead. His muscles protested. Pain leached from each pore of his skin. He gritted his teeth. He could do it. There were only four stairs to the top. Dick focused on the landing. "Just four," he muttered. He lifted his foot and the leg holding him began to tremble. He started to wobble.**

**Alfred held his breath. Bruce's face creased with frustration.**

**Dick's foot made it to the step and he lifted… lifted with all his might, but his body didn't move. A string of curses echoed out of him and with cry of determination he dragged his body upwards. It was simply too much and he lost his balance. Bruce's hand darted out to the middle of his back and supported him as he righted himself.**

**Wayne muttered under his breath, moved up beside Dick and threaded his arm around Grayson's waist. "Together," he offered.**

**Dick swallowed and turned to the other man in clear distress. "This… is… ridiculous." He was wheezing from the effort, his lips thin and paled from the pain.**

"**No, it isn't," Bruce soothed. "You have to give your body time."**

"**It's… been… weeks."**

"**I know. I remember what it's like. Give it time." **

**Dick sighed loudly and the fight left him. Bruce strengthened his grip but didn't try to pick him up. Instead, he waited.**

**Grayson slid his arm across Bruce's shoulders. "Okay. Together. The dynamic duo," Dick finished, forcing a grin.**

**Bruce smiled. "Always."…**

_Pine Village, Havico - The present_

The hallucinogenic memory faded and for a split second, Bruce caught a glimpse of his partner lying in the snow. "Dick!" but the word was slurred and didn't form properly. Among the darkening images and fog that was rolling in over his mind, Bruce's helplessness swelled. He could do nothing. In the past, even when he'd come 'too late' to stop injury, he'd always been able to go to Dick and ultimately… save him.

The canvas flap on the back of the truck was wrenched down, physically cutting Bruce off from Dick. With determination, Bruce renewed his struggles, but it was futile. He roared in anguish, only to have a huge hand clamped over his mouth. He was Batman and he couldn't help his own… his… partner.

VVVVVVVV

_Wayne Manor - The present_

"Yes, I heard from them last night when they arrived. I wonder how the weekend is going?" Alfred mused.

"I'm sure they have everything under control," Barbara laughed.

Alfred polished the phone as he listened to Barbara and a smile of contentment spread across his face. Barbara had always been a part of 'the family' but if things developed as he predicted, she might well become a member of the family in name also. While that might be a little premature, Alfred was quietly confident. He'd been the first to know of their feelings for each other at the inappropriate ages of 14 and 19.

"When do you expect them home?"

"Not until Monday," Alfred answered, rubbing a persistent grease mark with some vigor.

"Father's Day away?" Barbara sounded surprised. Dick had told her he was going away for a few days with Bruce, but it hadn't occurred to her until now that it would include Father's Day.

"I'm afraid so. Not the wisest of the master's decisions."

"Oh? Dick was…" Barbara fished.

"Master Dick was reservedly happy… my English teacher would have a field day with the word reservedly."

Barbara chuckled. "You are one of a kind, Alfred." Silence fell uncomfortably between them. "So, Bruce is watching Dick in case…"

"I think I can say with some assurance that Master Dick will be lucky if Master Bruce allows him to use the bathroom unsupervised… at least, those were my instructions."

Barbara laughed again, but the mirth wasn't real. The dreaded word 'epilepsy' pounded in her head. She'd been doing some research and while the condition could usually be controlled with medication, Dick's was something of a mystery. None of the doctors could really explain what had happened or why. What it meant for the man she loved was yet to be seen, but she was prepared to admit, she was worried.

"I hope everything is going as Bruce planned."

"I have a feeling that may be a little optimistic," Alfred murmured. "I'm afraid this isn't something we can help them with. They are on their own."

VV

Continued in part 10

Please leave your email address if you leave a review so I can take the opportunity to thank you.

* * *

I would really love to know what you thought.

**© January 2006 Aussie Nightwriter. : This relates only to the creative property in this story. The distinctive way the story unfolds, the specific dialogue and unique situations are mine. I acknowledge that some of the characters and settings belong to DC comics. (g) No infrigement of copyright was intended and no profit has been made from this story... so, please don't sue me. It wouldn't be worth your while.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A Father's Day to Remember  
A Sequel to "Lake of Lost Souls"**

by AUSSIE NIGHTWRITER

**_DISCLAIMER_: I do not own any of the characters. Nightwing and all of his friends belongs to DC comics. I'd be a happy woman if Dick belonged to me...but no such luck. I have not made any profit out of writing this, so please don't sue me. It would not be worth your while. **

**_Author Comment_:  
# # HUGE THANK YOU TO EM for betaing for me.  
# This is the promised sequel to the story "Lake of Lost Souls." Sorry it has taken so long.  
# I have no medical knowledge so there a bound to be inaccuracies in this story. I invite you to enjoy it for what it is... and rumble about a couple of drop dead gorgeous guys. (G) **

**_Special Thanks_: Thank you to all those people who have left such wonderful feedback on my previous stories. **

* * *

**A Father's Day to Remember**

Sequel to "Lake of Lost Souls"

**Part Ten **

Bruce's thoughts refused to form. The powerful hallucinogen pounded in his mind. A series of images were scrolling in front of his eyes.

_Dick, eight years old, curled up in his arms asleep. _

_Robin somersaulting over a thug twice his size._

_Nightwing flipping through the air somewhere below him._

_Dick lying in hospital, so white and still. _

_Dick crumpled in the snow, unmoving._

_Dick, so small and scared and snuggled up against his chest._

_Robin somersaulting to safety._

_Nightwing flipping with the grace of the acrobat he was… _

Over and over again.

Through the haze, Bruce was aware the truck had stopped.

He was being man-handled again.

Light penetrated his darkness. Despite his grogginess, Batman's razor sharp mind kicked in.

Light… the flap had been pulled up.

Short trip… then again, it could have been hours.

Coldness on his face… snow. He was out of the truck.

Dick.

He had to get help for Dick. Batman forced his eyes open. He concentrated on focusing his blurry vision. He needed to know where he was.

Open space… another parking lot?

Whiteness… secluded area.

Batman worked harder, his will battling the physical effects of the drug. His vision cleared. His sense of hearing returned.

"… and we'll meet you back here in four hours."

"Fine. Then we get off the island."

"I think…"

A blur from over head. The men gasped.

The blur came into focus, rolled twice and awkwardly rose to his feet.

"Dick!" Bruce cried.

"Now, where were we?" the young man panted. He was supporting his left elbow… a shoulder or collarbone injury, Bruce realized. "Ahhh, I remember. Let go of him and back away."

Bruce's heart soared, but he pushed that aside. He needed to be ready to respond to any signal from his partner.

"How did you get here?" one of Bruce's six captors demanded agape.

"He rode on the roof," another realized.

"Only way to travel," Dick muttered, releasing his elbow and gingerly reaching across his chest to support it. He directed his gaze at Bruce. _How much help can you give me?_ The message was silent, but Bruce knew what Dick needed to know.

_Very little._

Dick's head bobbed. He understood the intense stare. _Get ready to duck. _"Let him go," Grayson repeated, his eyes flicking very briefly to his hand hanging at his side. Wayne's gaze dropped to it. The hand balled and Dick's index finger shot out of his fist. ONE.

Bruce understood. Dick's other hand lifted and he pointed at the closest man. "You." All of his adversaries focused on the raised hand.

"I don't know who you are, mister, but you really need to walk away." Macintosh nodded to two of his four companions and they started to move left and right.

Dick's middle finger shot out of his hanging fist – TWO. Bruce channeled all of his energy into his spongy legs. The grip of those holding him had eased as they focused on Dick's right hand which arced toward one of the other men. "And you."

"What the hell are you pointing at?"

THREE. Bruce pushed off from his legs, yanking himself free of the two men gripping him. He dived directly forward into the snow. At exactly the same time, Dick Grayson launched into the air, his right leg sweeping out and taking down the two men on either side of Bruce. Dick landed with grunt of pain, one boot on either side of his groggy partner who was struggling to draw himself up onto his elbows.

"Stay down," Grayson ordered, as they were surrounded.

"Who the hell are you?"

"A concerned citizen," Dick murmured, his eyes scanning the mob as they continued to close in. Dick waited another handful of heartbeats and then attacked.

Bruce watched from the ground and even though he was losing the fight against the drug, he was aware enough to tell by the way Dick was moving that his partner was hurt. Nothing was smooth or flowing as it normally would be and his right shoulder was lower, clearly dislocated. However, Dick was a class above his talentless adversaries and he was employing maximum force to achieve the swiftest result. Bruce began to sway as the drug started to overpower him.

It was six to one.

Then five.

Four… three… His partner was cutting them down, but Dick had tired quickly and his reflexes were slowing with each blow.

Bruce tired to refocus, pressing up onto his knees. He spotted one of the men retreat towards the truck.

Two to one.

Bruce knew he wasn't going to be able to remain conscious much longer, but he needed to stay awake until Dick had the situation completely under control.

Grayson rocketed a punch into the jaw of one of the remaining men sending him to the ground with so many of his companions.

One left.

"Give it up," Dick hissed, unable to hide the pain he was in. He pressed his hand across his chest and held it for a few moments before beginning to advance on the final man.

Bruce recognized that his partner didn't have much left. "Just one," he murmured, in slurred encouragement. Out of the corner of his eye, Bruce spotted movement. The man who had run to the truck, reappeared.

There was an explosion of sound in Bruce's ear. Dick threw himself sideways, but his reflexes were sluggish. His body arced, but as the bullet found its mark, Dick's head jerked with the impact and he collapsed.

The shot echoed out.

"Noooo!" Bruce roared. "Dick!" Wayne dragged his heavy body forward. Strength and coordination of movement returned for a fleeting moment and he gathered Dick into his arms.

The drug surged with the release of adrenaline and another hallucination swamped him-- a single phrase pounding in his mind.

_Wayne Manor—6 days earlier_

**Dick blinked at him. "Pardon?"**

**Bruce smiled a little apprehensively and handed Dick the papers. "How would you feel about me making it official? That's the paper work. You just have to sign. You're my heir anyway… both Batman's and the brainless socialite's," he added, trying to relieve the tension. "I just… it's just a formality, really. Every man wants immortality and I've come to realize that we achieve that through our legacy."**

**Dick blinked again.**

**Wayne waited. "Are you okay?"**

**Dick blinked a third time. Bruce rose from his chair and walked around the huge antique desk to the young man standing on the other side. "Dick?"**

"**Yes." **

"**Yes, you can hear me or yes, you've thought it over and are happy to formalize our relationship in the eyes of the law?"**

"**Yes," Dick repeated in a hollow voice, dropping his eyes to the legal adoption papers he held.**

**Bruce raised his eyebrows. "Dick?" **

"**I'm sorry. Formalize it for legal reasons?" Grayson asked, seeming to regain his composure.**

**Bruce nodded. "I want to make it clear that I'm not asking to become your father. What I'm asking is that you become my legal beneficiary."**

**Dick frowned. **

"**If you're uncomfortable with this, we don't have to do it."**

"**No."**

"**No, you're uncomfortable, or no you're not uncomfortable?" Bruce tried to clarify. This wasn't going as he had envisaged.**

"**Bruce, what are you asking me? Do you just want to tie up the Wayne fortune so that no one else can get their hands on it if something happens to you?"**

"**That's part of it."**

"**Then why bother? Your will already does that."**

**Bruce stared at him. A plethora of emotions blanketed Dick's face… not the least of which was hurt, anger and confusion. Bruce swallowed. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.**

"**I'm already your heir. You just said that."**

"**Yes."**

"**And you don't need to worry. I'll carry on Batman's legacy. You must know that."**

"**Yes."**

**So, what's this about?" Dick asked, eyeing the adoption papers. "_Just_ legalizing? What does that mean? _Just_ having a second bit of a paper to ensure I'm your beneficiary?" **

**Bruce's face contorted. "Yes… well, yes… no, not completely."**

"**Then what's it about?" The accusatory look on Dick's face cut Bruce to the core. **

"**I just want to make everything right! If you sign the papers, you'll legally be my heir. No one will ever be able to question it." No one would ever be able to question what he felt for Dick. The words exploded out of him with volume. **

**Grayson's eyes widened briefly and he opened his mouth to speak but closed it slowly. Hurt melted into his features. He looked so vulnerable. **

**Bruce was utterly confused. "Dick, I didn't mean to snap at you. I just…"**

"**No, it's fine," Grayson dismissed, his voice unnaturally even. "I understand. If anything happened to you there may be challenges to the will and if I'm your legal heir in name also, no one will be able to question it. It's okay. I get it. Sure, I'll sign." He placed the papers on the desk and reached for a pen. The one that he picked up was scarred from use, but the inscription was still clear. He paused staring down at it. "I gave you this a long time ago."**

**Bruce nodded. Still he searched his mind to understand Dick's reaction. He'd been certain that Dick would be happy about the adoption. After all, he'd made it clear that he wasn't trying to take Dick's father's place… that was the most important thing, wasn't it?**

"**_Just_ a legal formality," Grayson muttered, placing the pen on the paper. **

**The emphasis on the word 'just' hit Bruce in the face like a flat handed slap. Wayne was stunned. All these years, out of respect for Dick's father and to honor his promise, he'd gone out of his way not to cross that implicit line between guardian and father. How had he got it so wrong? Bruce reached out and stilled Dick's hand. "Wait."**

**Grayson lifted his face, still trying to maintain the emotionless expression, but he was failing badly. The two men stared at each other, both lost. **

"**No, Dick," Bruce whispered emotionally. "Not _just_ a formality. God, no. Far from that. Oh, hell." He squeezed the hand under his own. "Many years ago I promised a terrified eight year old boy that I would never try to replace his father."**

"**Huh?"**

"**When I was finalizing your wardship, some idiot of a social worker commented to you about how wonderful you must feel about having a _new_ father. It traumatized you and so I promised I would never try to replace him. I would be your guardian but never attempt to… that privilege was John Grayson's alone. And rightly or wrongly, that's what I've done all these years. I've honored that promise, despite what I…"**

**Dick's face twisted with shock and a dozen other emotions.**

**Wayne swallowed and again squeezed Dick's hand. "Dick, I don't want to encroach on your father's place, but I can't continue to deny…" Bruce struggled to explain. "Quite selfishly, I want… Yes, I want you to be my heir, and yes I want you to carry on Batman's legacy, but that isn't what this is about." He searched for the perfect words, but he couldn't find any that came close to what he wanted to say. His voice became softer as his emotion rose. "I just want you to be my son."**

**Bruce prayed that would be enough. That Dick would understand. He saw tears gathering in his boy's eyes. **

**Wayne physically took Dick's shoulders and turned him so they were facing each other. He'd almost stuffed it up. He'd dehumanized the adoption -- reducing it to some sort of emotionless formality. He'd never meant for it to sound like that. In his inept attempt to make it easier on Dick, he'd cheapened it. "I'm sorry I… I should have… "**

"**It's okay," Dick assured. He nodded, reached up and patted Bruce's arm before turning and signing the document. Grayson's breathing had become rapid. Slowly he straightened up, still focused on the signatures. **

**Wayne smiled, physically turned Dick and wrapped his arms around his boy. "It's a new start. It's what I wanted to do years ago, but I didn't want to force you into something you didn't want. You did sign because you wanted to, didn't you?" he confirmed, stepping back.**

**Dick's Adam's apple jumped and with a voice rippling with emotion he whispered, "Yes." **

**Bruce's heart lifted. Dick wanted to be his son. **

**VVVVVVVVVVV**

_Pine Village, Havico - The present_

_His son_.

_His son_.

Bruce collected Dick into his lethargic arms. Blood. His hand darted out for Dick's neck to check his pulse, but the fingers slid off. "Dick?" The word was screamed in his mind but came out as gibberish.

A shadow fell over him. Pain exploded at the back of his head.

The last thing Bruce saw as he toppled forward over Dick's body was his son's bloodied face.

VV

Continued in part 11

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**© January 2006 Aussie Nightwriter. : This relates only to the creative property in this story. The distinctive way the story unfolds, the specific dialogue and unique situations are mine. I acknowledge that some of the characters and settings belong to DC comics. (g) No infrigement of copyright was intended and no profit has been made from this story... so, please don't sue me. It wouldn't be worth your while.**


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